Digimon Odyssey
by Nellas Bean
Summary: Episode two uploaded. A remake of Season 02. A terrible accident, the trembling ego of a young boy, and the reality of her dreams in Crash-Zero. Set six years after the events of 01.
1. Episode One: CenterStage Nova

Disclaimer: Digimon and all of its characters belong to Toei and Bandai Animation. I claim no rights to the characters or Season One plot; I make no money off of this. The writing is written strictly for entertainment purposes. If any of the events are in any way related to you or your family, it is completely coincidental.

**Author's Notes:** _A complete re-write of the Second Season (as I wasn't too happy with the turnouts, and even mine will probably disappoint many people). There will be new characters introduced, and the originals are kept, with slight altering. Not as light-hearted as the show, of course, it will take a more mature and adult route. So, if you can't handle change in your old favorite characters, this is definitely not the thing to read. Please note that because this is a re-write of Season Two, the time-line will be different, and Season Two has not occurred yet (you'll get it along the way if I confused you with that). And, with that said, enjoy._

**Digimon Odyssey**

**Episode One: 'Center-stage Nova'**

In a bright summer day of the middle of July, the young fourteen-year-old Takeru Takaishi was lazing around in his apartment complex, bored.

He was a lean boy, his hair a dark blond. His jaw was angular and framed his face in a very masculine way, much more noticeable that the baby-fat face of his eight year old days. His dark blue eyes were clouded over, in deep thought. He seemed troubled over past events, with the way his lips were stretched grimly. His pale hand rested on top of his forehead, and he stared vacantly at the ceiling fan, which spun at a slow pace. Takeru breathed in and out at a steady level, quietly, as his other hand fingered a small pocket-notebook at his side. The black cover was worn, bent several times and bent back straight.

The room he was in was obviously the living room of the apartment. The wooden black coffee table in front of him was slightly crooked; two cups lay on coasters in the corner opposite of the boy. A small television was in front of him, shut off. Outside the window, the sun blared. It was unusually hot for this northern part of Kushiro, Japan. A fishing port, the strengthened smell of fish had at first shocked Takeru when he'd first moved there three years ago.

He sighed. Six years since he'd seen everyone. Two years since he'd heard from them. It was lonesome, and he had kept to his word that he wouldn't make any new friends while he was there. The silent promise he'd made to Hikari on the last day he'd seen her. To everyone. An image of Yamato flashed across his mind. Moody Yamato, he was still the best brother any person could find. And his father, gruff old man; Takeru still admired him greatly.

A small smirk played on his lips. Thinking about the past was going to get him nowhere. The boy sat up, slouched, and ascended to his feet. He picked up his work notebook and put it in his pants pocket. He was wearing his school uniform of a white-collar shirt and black pants for no apparent reason. If anyone asked his usual response was that it was easier to pick out than to sort through his drawers and try to find something that his mother would consider fine.

The thought of his mother immediately dimmed his already low spirit. His mother had become a…disagreeable woman as of late. She had been very strict for a year now…working constantly. She only just barely got a few words to him when she did come home for dinner, which was not often. The real reason of him wearing his uniform…was that, his mother had been neglecting him. His clothes were far too small now, and she didn't notice. Not that he took it upon himself to mention it to her. Everyone else thought that she was just fine, a good woman with a "dark" and "quiet" son who almost never opened his mouth. Which was true. But even so, he still loved her, keeping his childhood faith in her.

"Oh, hell!" he cried, wishing he could punch something. He hated the loneliness, hated being something that no one saw. He wished to be acknowledged, and his old dream of living with Yamato and his father reoccurred in his mind. He rubbed his temple and walked over to the door of the apartment, grabbing some spare change. He slipped on his white trainers and strode dejectedly out of the apartment.

Elsewhere in Kushiro, in a small café, an elderly man was sipping at his cup of black coffee. A bell signaling someone entering rang and he picked his head up, gazing at the young boy who entered with a pained expression. He recognized the boy as Takaishi, one of the only young'uns who entered this place, as it was so aged. People in middle age mostly came here. Takaishi caught sight of the man and he brightened a little.

"Yoshitsu-san!" he said joyfully, strolling over to him.

'Wearing that school uniform again…' he thought with a small chuckle. He suspected the reasons behind the excuses of the boy's, but never probed. He motioned for the seat opposite of him, which the boy heartily accepted.

"And how are you today, Takaishi?" he asked.

The boy shrugged his shoulders, not meeting his eyes fully.

"I take it you haven't seen your mother in a few days," he stated. Takeru's reaction was flat, unemotional.

"She has a lot of work, Yoshitsu-san."

"Ah! Of course she does," he gestured for a waiter to come over, and he ordered Takaishi a bowl of oriental ramen. The boy was protesting, but gave in once he insisted.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence. Takeru's shoulders slouched, and he looked disheartened for a moment. But for only a moment, he put on his mask yet again as he pulled out a small notebook. Yoshitsu recognized it, a book the boy often scribbled in during their encounters. A notebook of ideas, he had yet to see what was inside. Pulling out a small black pencil with no eraser, Takeru proceeded to "scribble".

Yoshitsu watched the child as he wrote in the notebook with increasing enthusiasm. It was their kind of ritual every now and then when they saw each other. Takeru wrote in the notebook, and Yoshitsu stared with interest at what could be so fascinating about a notebook.

The ramen arrived, hot and steaming. Takeru decided he would wait for it to cool down as he pulled over some plum sauce. He stirred it in.

"Still the plum sauce fanatic, I see," Yoshitsu remarked.

Takeru did not reply, instead added an ice-cube to his bowl. He stirred this in as well, to speed the cooling process.

Yoshitsu folded his hands, sipping his black coffee that was beginning to get cold.

It was quiet for a few moments, the mellow music playing above them.

"So," Yoshitsu began, finishing his coffee, "Isn't this the day your mother comes home?"

"Er…I guess coming home to dinner…"

"Which is in an hour, why are you here and not at home?"

"She's missed dinner for the last few weeks; I don't see her coming home today. I'd rather not have my hopes destroyed again, Yoshitsu-san…she's broken so many promises…" Takeru slouched again, and took his first bite of the ramen. "This is good," he commented.

"And if she does come home…?" he pressed.

"I don't care, all right? She's hurt me; I don't want to be home. I'll go home when I'm finished!" Takeru snapped. He recuperated, and sighed, "Sorry…I didn't mean it. I'll go home as soon as possible."

"That's a good boy. Even if she's not doing her greatest, she is still your mother."

Takeru motioned the waiter opened and asked for a carton to carry his ramen out. He stood up, putting the notebook away.

"Thank you, Yoshitsu-san. Sorry for my sour attitude, I guess I'm stressed."

"And lonely. You should make more friends," he added.

Takeru saddened slightly, "I can't do that…I'm holding up to a vow I made to some old friends. I don't feel like breaking it just…yet…"

Little did the boy know, his increasing loneliness, despondence, would pay dearly later on.

Back in the apartment, Takeru set his ramen on the counter and saw there was a message on the phone. He trembled. _What's her excuse_ this _time?_

He pressed the button with shaky fingers, sitting down at the table. To his shock, it was not his mother, but a masculine voice. But for some reason this made it all the more disconcerting.

"_Miss Takaishi! Where the hell are you?! Do you know how much trouble there is down here?! Wherever you are, you better get down here fast-like!"_

A machine-like voice droned: "_Message received…Five-oh-eight p.m."_

A second message; a wallowing pit was devouring his stomach. The last was his mother's boss…the second was probably…

'_A woman?_'

The message fell on deaf ears, as he opened his ramen. He would listen to it again later, it didn't matter anyway.

The ramen was a little cold, but nothing that a quick zap in the microwave couldn't heal. He chomped down, ignoring his small pang of hurt in his center as the time came and passed when his mother should have been home. He finished and threw the Styrofoam away. He walked to the living room and flipped on his video games.

In a few hours, the intercom rang. Takeru sighed, frustrated, and turned the games off. Walking to the door, he pressed the button.

"Hello?"

A masculine, informative, official voice answered. "Good evening, is this Miss Takaishi's son?"

"…Yes…?"

"May we come in? We're from the hospital."

"O-Of course," Takeru stammered, and proceeded to the door.

Outside the threshold, two men in gray suits stood, both wearing sunglasses.

"Um…come in, you want some tea?" Takeru asked, remembering his manners.

"That's quite all right, Takeru. We won't be long," the man on the left stated, straightening his glasses.

"Okay…"

They came in and took their shoes off, walking into the kitchen. Takeru watched their manner curiously.

"Takeru, have you checked your messages lately?" the man that had spoken before said.

"Um…a couple hours ago…I didn't listen to them all, though…"

"You may want to listen to them all, then," the other spoke.

Takeru's dark feeling deepened as he numbly walked to the telephone, pressing the play button once again.

The message from the boss played, and the men's reactions were more or less indifferent. Takeru stared intently at the phone. The second message played.

"_Takeru Takaishi, this is Orikasa, Masami from the hospital of South District.__ Your mother has been in a serious car accident. Please come as soon as you can."_

And the phone voice: "_Message received…five-forty-two p.m."_

Silence pervaded his ears. The world around him warped, and the men's voices seemed so far away. He couldn't believe it, it couldn't be…_wouldn't _be! Takeru refused to believe it!

"Oh my god…" Takeru sobbed, sinking to the floor, "She's dead, isn't she?"

One of the men knelt down beside him, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"Yes. Approximately forty minutes ago. Her lungs collapsed. The doctors did all they could. Your father has already been informed and he will be here in a few hours."

But the statistics Takeru did not hear, his head was buried in his hands. The tears did not come, but heavy sobs racked through his thin body. The dim words, "be strong" hit his ears as he felt the men leave, after their apologies.

He stumbled to the phone, dialing the number he'd long since used.

_Ring…ring…ring…ring…rin-_

"Hello?"

It was his brother.

"Oh god…Yamato…" he whispered, struggling to keep his voice straight.

"Takeru?! Takeru!"

"Niisan…" the boy mumbled pathetically, fumbling and dragging over a chair.

"Are you alright?! Were you in the accident?"

"I…I wasn't in the accident…Yamato…"

"Is mom all right?"

"She's dead."

He heard his brother sharply gasp on the other end. There was silence.

"Dad just left," Yamato said.

"…I know…"

"Takeru?"

"What?"

"I…um…"

"I love you too, Yamato…we'll…manage…"

"I'll…see you soon?"

"Yes…"

"And, Takeru?"

"Huh…"

"I've missed you."

An audible _click_ was on the other end. The phone hung limply in Takeru's hands as he let it slip through. A sarcastic smirk planted on his lips. Onii-sama…still as stubborn as ever, even after six years.

He hung the phone up. He relaxed into the chair and closed his eyes. His arms dangled at his sides. He dreamt of a grassy plain, the one he and Patamon had cried together in their last two hours together. It was a sad moment in his life, one among many. But it was the day that he ceased to be a child, and became a boy. He grew up so much in the Digital World…

The phone woke him up. Groggy, he lazily picked it off the hook and answered.

"Takeru speaking…"

"Takeru?"

It was his dad. He was speaking softly, almost afraid.

"Dad?"

"Oh, good. Are you okay?"

"Just…tired. Shocked, I guess…it's happening all so fast…"

"I understand. I'm right outside your apartment building. Do you want me to come in or do you want to come out?"

"Come in! I'll make some coffee. I'll unlock the door…its room seven-eight-two, floor seven."

"Alright, I'll be right in, son."

"Okay, I'll get the coffee started."

_Click_!

A wave of relief flooded him. This would be the first time in six years he would have seen his father. He began to get slightly self-conscious as he rushed to the bathroom to comb his untidy hair a little. He hoped he wouldn't ask why he was wearing a school uniform, because Takeru couldn't bear telling the truth. And he knew he sure wouldn't lie to his own father.

He heard the door open, and the boy rushed to the kitchen to get the coffee ready. His father walked right in.

Takeru felt himself suddenly lose control of himself. He felt himself stare at his father as his father gazed right back. He shuddered, dropping the bag of coffee, making a mess on the tiled floor.

His father hadn't changed at all, save for the strands of graying hair. Takeru ran to him, burying his head in his great chest.

"Oh, dad…" he sobbed, feeling stupid, unmanly. Why couldn't he control the crying?

"Shhh," coaxed his father, stroking his hair, "It's all right, son. You'll be fine…"

Takeru squeezed him harder, afraid he would pull away. He felt like a sissy, but it still didn't stop the humiliation of crying. His father hugged him back, saying small words that he couldn't hear, but the love in his voice calming him down somewhat. After they moved over to the couch, his father kept his arm slung around his son's shoulders.

"How has life been…here? Okay?"

"…More or less…"

"Is it more or less?" he father questioned.

"Oh…both, I suppose."

He asked the question Takeru dreaded. Takeru's fists clenched in his lap. He bit his tongue.

"I…"

His father drew his arm back, looking at Takeru seriously. "Takeru, look at me."

He faltered, afraid, but he did as he was told.

"Have you been all right here?"

"I…"

"Takeru."

When the boy refused to answer, he stopped persisting. His eyes dimmed over, guessing the worst.

"We'll be leaving after your mother's funeral…I'm having you share Yamato's room. Is that okay?"

"Yes, that's…wonderful…"

The older man nodded grimly, standing up. He walked into the kitchen and began to clean up the mess.

"Thank you, dad…for everything."

"You're my son," he stated matter-of-factly.

However, this didn't lighten Takeru's mood at all.

The funeral came and went. And before he knew it, he was at his father and Yamato's apartment. The rest of the summer went by quickly; he stayed inside most of the time, and didn't meet any of his old friends. His reunion with Yamato was explosive, at least in his mind. Yamato's eyes had nearly bugged out at how tall Takeru had grown, almost matching his own height. Yamato's room was successfully split in half. Takeru didn't personalize his side. He just used it for sleeping and a place to think. His brother's side was filled with posters, his guitar case leaning on the front of his bed. Takeru rarely asked how Yamato's band was coming along.

During the month that he stayed, Takeru became quite the fatalist. _What will be, will be_. His way of coping with the harshness of life so that living didn't seem like such a roller coaster, unpredictable. Yamato tried several times to drag Takeru out of the apartment, all times unsuccessful. Takeru sulked around the place, scribbling in his notebook, staring out windows. He scarcely watched television (which Yamato thought was unhealthy), and became paler than his already pale complexion. He lost weight, and interest in the world around him faded.

Autumn came, and school was starting. He'd be in the ninth grade this year…the first year of high school. Yamato would be entering twelfth grade, along with most of the older digidestined. Takeru walked to school with his bag at his side. He wondered lightly if he would see Hikari again. This thought lifted his spirits a little; he _would_ like to see her again, after all these years.

The school was big, bigger than the one he had attended in Kushiro. He found his classroom of Two-B and selected a seat near the window. It was noisy.

Takeru lay his head down on the desk and gazed out the window, already missing the now-gone summer. At least the school in Kushiro had been _quiet_.

"Shut up…" he mumbled inaudibly. Of course no one heard him. The bell rang, and the class representative ordered everyone to stand up and bow. In auto-pilot he did this, still staring out the window.

The teacher was an old woman, her hair white. She wore thick glasses, and the teacher's uniform.

"Good morning class. My name is Sakuma, Etsuko. I'll be your _sensei_ for the remainder of the year," she made a modest bow. Takeru looked at her; she looked slightly like a fish to him, with the glasses enlarging her eyes.

"We have a new student joining us this year," she looked back at him, making him sit straight up, eyes wide, and "If you will please come up here…?"

He nodded stiffly, and the boy walked as she commanded. To the front of the classroom, he turned around and introduced himself.

"I'm…Takaishi, Takeru…pleased to meet you all," he mumbled, just loud enough for everyone to hear. Takeru saw one of the girls in the class jump slightly at the sound of his name. He stared at her, and she gazed back. The girl averted her eyes and stared at the wall. Takeru slumped, bowed, and returned to his seat.

Class began, and the Miss Sakuma started to lecture on what the happenings would be of this year, and what she expected of them. He barely listened; it was the same as all the other years, anyway. Outside, it was cloudy, the leaves on the trees turning the various colors of orange, red, and brown. The minutes dragged by, and they were copying notes of the expectations in Geometry class. Leaning on one hand he wrote the notes, and the class soon slurred into English. He was semi-fluent in it, with a strong accent. He'd been taking the language for five years now.

The bell for lunch rang, and as a special for the first day of school, none of them were assigned clean-up duty. Takeru made his way up to the roof to eat his lunch. It was just a box of white rice with plum sauce with a small ham sandwich. Sitting down near the fence, he was a little cold with the wind blustering into him. He ate slowly, and when he was done, lay down and stared at the sky, watching leaves flutter across his vision.

Before he knew it, the clock was turning backwards, and he was a child again. They were sitting at the edge of the lake in the first night in the digital world. Patamon was snoozing on his shoulder as the other digimon were around scavenging for food. Yamato and Taichi were at the fire, roasting some fishes Koushiro had caught…Sora and Mimi were busy getting the trolley car ready for the night's rest…

He remembered a conversation he had heard one night between Gabumon and his brother when Yamato had thought he was sleeping.

_The digimon walked over to his partner, listening to the sweet sound of his placid harmonica. Takeru stayed hidden behind a bush, having woken up a few moments before._

_Yamato parted his lips and set the instrument down, leaning back on his hand as he let out a strangled sigh. He closed his eyes as he spoke._

_"The song…my mom used to play it on the harmonica when I was little," he mumbled._

_"Did she?" Gabumon asked curiously, "it sounds sad for a mother to play such a tune for her child…it just doesn't…seem fitting."_

_"Well, my mom is a troubled woman, she doesn't exactly have her priorities straight," the eleven-year-old said with a smirk, "She gets too caught up in other things to really pay attention to how it affects others…"_

_"What do you mean?" Gabumon asked, settling down and watched his friend, "Does she not pay attention to you?"_

_"No, no. I don't mean about me," Yamato said. He scooted up against a tree and breathed. "It's never me… It's Takeru."_

_The child behind the bush quickened his breath._

_"He probably doesn't understand it quite yet…but my mother-I mean, our mother, she's too busy to have children. She loves him, I know she does, but she doesn't know how to show it properly. She works all day, thinking she does it for the greater good, but, in reality…Takeru is going to grow up being very lonely if she keeps up the attitude," Yamato looked at Gabumon, his eyes glassy. "I don't want Takeru to grow up being lonely…because I know how hard it can be…"_

_"I see, that explains a lot. You wish to protect Takeru…from loneliness, but that doesn't seem to be all," Gabumon delved._

_"Well, no…I want to protect him from making the same choice I did. To take the path of being lonely and only relying on oneself, to begin to doubt yourself. It hurts so much…" Yamato closed his eyes again, "He will probably end up being lonely in the long run, but it's worth a shot, right?"_

_Gabumon nodded, "I think you're doing a wonderful job, Yamato."_

_"You're just saying that…Taichi probably could do what I've been trying to do in a second."_

_"Now, don't start that again. You're you and he is he. Don't believe that he could be a better brother! Ever!"_

_"Okay! I understand!" Yamato laughed._

The dream slurred into another, where he was a child riding on the back of Magnaangemon. They were soaring over the newborn Digiworld. Nearby was Hikari on the back of Angewomon. Feathers flew everywhere, and Takeru laughed. How he wished he could fly in the sky as well…

Hands were on his shoulders, shaking him awake. Takeru opened his eyes slowly, and it didn't register in his mind for a while that the sun was setting.

He sat up, looking at the girl who woke him up. His mouth tasted disgusting, and he licked the top of his mouth to get the rancidness out. Takeru rubbed his eyes. It was the girl that had jumped when he'd introduced himself.

"You're Takaishi?" she asked, helping him up.

He winced at how stiff his back was, '_How could I have fallen asleep?_' he speculated. He nodded to the girl, taking a look at her.

Her hair was a light brown, her eyes hazel. Her hair was parted on her left, a few strands hanging over her eyes, giving off a seductive look. She held a small smile.

"Sensei was wondering where you went off to…but you're okay, it was the first day of school," she bent down to pick up the remnants of his lunch that he hadn't finished. Handing it to him, she went on, "I stayed after school to clean up…and I was a little worried. Are you okay?"

Takeru nodded again, "Just…a little stiff…"

The girl smiled again, "Well, I can imagine…"

He looked at her again, and thought she looked a lot like Hikari. When she caught him staring at her, she smiled again.

"Is there something on my face, Takaishi-kun?'

Takeru flustered, "N-no…you just…look like an old friend of mine." He put his hands into his pockets.

The girl's smile vanished, and she stared vacantly. "Well…Takaishi-kun…I'm glad you think so."

Takeru looked into her eyes. They were so much like hers had been…

"Hikari?" he whispered. His eyes watered, and he rubbed them, sniffling. He _would not_ cry in front of her.

"I'm glad to see you again…Takeru-kun," Hikari whispered, patting his shoulder, "It's been a while."

Takeru was at a loss for words, he gaped at her. The girl he once knew was now a woman, a shadow hanging over her eyes. She seemed troubled by something deep within. Takeru's legs wavered, uncertain. He gulped, clearing his throat.

"I…" he started, but gave up. He gave her a hug, a tight one. Her head rested on his shoulder, her arms encircling him. It was just a hug of reunited friends, nothing more than that, Takeru thought nothing more of it when he let go. "I'm glad I saw you."

"Saw me? I believe I saw _you_," Hikari playfully poked his stomach, then, linking their arms, "Come on, walk me home."

"You still live in the same place?"

"Yes."

"Okay…let's see if I remember the town…tell me which way to go, all right?"

Hikari giggled, heartily agreeing. They made their way out of the school and began walking down the streets, both quiet. It would seem that being separated so long gave them a million questions to ask each other, but none knowing where to begin. Takeru had thought of a thousand approaches at least, but had tried none of them. He closed his eyes, putting his hands in his pockets.

"So…" Hikari started, drawing her arm back, "…how has life been in Kushiro?"

"Boring," Takeru said quickly, "I missed it here."

"Huh, so why'd you come back?"

"I'd rather not talk about it," the boy avoided, glancing away nervously.

"I won't press you, then…I hope you find some happiness here. You seem rather…lost," she walked on, and he stood rooted to the spot.

"Lost, huh? It must be my stud looks," Takeru said curtly, smirking as he caught up, "All the babes can't resist my charms."

Hikari laughed, "And are you, Takeru-kun, saying I am a _babe_? I do believe I can evade your charms quite easily, I assure you."

Takeru made a small grin as they resumed walking. He hadn't felt this great in a while, he didn't feel so lonely, like a door to his heart had been opened a little and light was pouring in on the darkness that he created. Her apartment showed up, and they stopped on the corner. She turned and faced him.

"It's nice to have you back, Takeru-kun," Hikari said, "I'll see you tomorrow in school, okay? Oh, um…" she darted her sight around suspiciously, "if you see a guy following me around, don't talk to me… He, um, gets aggressive when he feels…uh…_threatened_. A word of advice, right? Take care, Takeru-kun." She walked inside without another word.

_Crash_! A tree fell as various forms rushed from underneath it. Fire spread quickly, and a few of the fleeing forms fell victim to it, crying out desolately to the unresponsive night. Two of the moving things ran back and tugged at one of the fallen, shouting incoherent things. A small, orange dinosaur was hefting the scorched form on his back, and running as fast as he could away. A cat-like animal that looked like a smaller version of the minx with a longer, thinner tail. Its radiant white fur glistened in the light of the fires.

Digimon.

Gatomon rushed to Agumon's aide, helping him carry away their fallen comrade. The unconscious digimon glowed a golden color, and then shrunk, the brown fur fading into a pink color. This somehow made the running easier, as they escaped into a cave made by a something like a mole.

Gatomon, the cat digimon, was breathing heavily. "We…we can't…just…leave…! We have to…help!"

The dinosaur plopped down, his short legs shuddering, "No. We'd be no use…we're too…tired." His attention shifted to the injured digimon in front of him, "I…hope he'll…be all right…"

Gatomon sunk to the warm ground, digging her claws into it, "He has to be. Tokomon won't give up just because of a little burn!" She edged closer to the smaller form, gently nudging it, "He'll be okay, I know he will."

Agumon kept his reverie as he stared out at the exit. All chaos was launching outside by the numerous rookie digimon and the stronger, insane, Champions and beyond. Agumon winced as he heard a last cry and all was silent. The battle was over outside, and they had lost.

Gatomon sensed his wince, and soon figured out the reason. Curling up into a ball, she held Tokomon's body protectively next to her. She shut her eyes to the outside, mumbling, "It's so much like the old days, don't you think?"

"Yes…" the dinosaur shifted positions, staring at her, "Only this time, we're alone. We don't have Taichi and all of them to help us fight…"

"I've tried contacting them…but the Gate is still closed," Gatomon replied helplessly, "I can't get through to Hikari, not yet…"

"It'll be okay, we'll survive. We just have to keep trying, don't give up now."

On Earth, in the Ishida's apartment room, in Takeru and Yamato's room, a small object glowed on the side desk of the bed. It glowed a bright green, urgent. However, the two boys were asleep, and did not see the gadget respond to whatever it was responding to. It buzzed quicker, and quicker, like a frantic heartbeat, before reclining into darkness once more.

Takeru woke up early the next morning, earlier than he had ever done in his life. (Unfortunately, he woke up a mere moments after his digivice had activated). He rolled out of bed, his head clear. Grabbing the gadget on the desk, he walked over to the dresser and pulled out a school uniform. Walking to the bathroom, he jumped into the shower.

It took him only a few minutes to get done, and when he got out, he cursed to himself for taking a shower at four in the morning. Not feeling sleepy in the least, he decided to finish the rest of his morning routines. Eating a small breakfast of toast and milk, he left a note on the counter and went out for a walk.

It was a little windy out, but nice enough so that his head didn't feel cold that it was damp. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and continued on his way, deep in thought. The events of the evening before with the reunion of Hikari were still fresh in his head. Her face…it was still the child girl he had known, but something seemed to be overshadowing her, like a storm cloud. He wondered idly what it was, and then dismissed it as none of his business.

He felt something tremble at his feet, and the boy looked down. A cat hissed at him, darting away. It seemed, he thought amused, that it was scolding him. For what…he knew not.

A rustle to his right, and he heard a flurry of giggles as a couple fell out of the bushes and into the building wall, feverishly kissing. Takeru felt his breath catch in his throat, his face reddening. The woman was gasping, moaning as the man stroked her in places that he shouldn't touch in public. Takeru shivered, wishing to whatever higher power there was that they did not see him. The boy was entranced, but his wobbling legs drifted backward. He turned around and ran.

'I shouldn't have seen that,' he reprimanded himself, 'It wasn't my business…why didn't I leave as soon as I saw them?'

He clamped his eyes shut, running harder. He ran and ran until he was breathless, and he collapsed onto a nearby bench, sweating vehemently.

He opened his eyes and gazed around, trying to ignore the dull ache in his crotch. His vision was blurry at first, but then he realized that he was in the park that him and the rest of the Digidestined had met up in an attempt to conjure up a plan to find the eighth child. It sure hadn't changed, unlike the rest of the people. No one in sight was around, and Takeru let out his held breath.

Curious, but still confused, he harshly tried to push the memory of the event away. It was something beyond his knowledge, something he and his mother had only briefly discussed about. His fists tightened on the knee of his uniform black pants. He began to thing if it would be a good idea if he asked his father about it. He shut his eyes.

"Just _shut up_, Takeru," he chided himself, putting his face in his left hand. A sigh heaved out of him.

All this while, he didn't realize his digivice faintly glowing on his belt.

Koushiro Izumi was always one to be early for school, to check the computers for viruses. Sitting peacefully in the subway, he began to plan ahead what he was going to do that day. Today was his day off from his part-time job at the local bookstore…but he really didn't have any plans. Shifting his school bag on his lap, he allowed himself to relax. His parents were away on a well-deserved vacation to Tokyo, so there wasn't really anything he could do at home, as they had forbidden him to bury himself in his work while they were away.

"Scratch that theory," he said with a slight chuckle.

'Perhaps I could go visit Yamato's place, I hear Takeru is living there now.'

It sounded like an adequate plan, and satisfied, he straightened his green uniform and grinned contently.

Taichi yawned loudly and rolled out of bed at the prodding of his younger sister. His hair was an untidy disaster, like usual, as he rubbed his eyes and looked lazily at her. "Ohhugh…what do you want? I don't have to get up for another hour, Hikari…"

The younger girl smiled weakly, "Oh, uh…well, I just thought you would like an early start, Taichi…I mean, you always sleep in."

"I do not. Now let me go back to sleep," he garbled bitterly, proceeding back to bed. Hikari grabbed his short and tugged backwards.

"Come on! I have a friend I want to meet at school!"

"So walk…!" Taichi complained, a little on the whining side, "I need my sleep."

Hikari wasn't about to give up that easily, hooking her arms around his abdomen, she began to tickle him fiercely.

This was the way to go. Breaking up in to hysterical laughter, Taichi tried unsuccessfully to fight her off, but ended up falling on top of her. "Okay! Okay! You win!"

Hikari smiled in triumph, pushing him off her, she stood up and clapped her hands.

Rubbing his eyes once more, Taichi stood up and smiled at her. "So who's this friend you want to see? And how do you know they'll be there an hour and a half early for school?" A light suddenly popped in his head, "Oh my god, you don't have the hots for Koushiro, do you?"

Hikari punched him playfully, "Ew, no! He may be my friend, but…ugh, not that much!"

"Oh, okay, I'll be sure to tell him you find him absolutely horrendous."

"Taichi Yagami!" Hikari shouted, tackling him.

The young man laughed at her performance, and, shoving her away, walked into the bathroom. "I'll be out in a minute."

Takeru made his way back to their apartment, the events of earlier that morning fading away quickly. He took another shower when he got there and changed swiftly, trying to get out of the house before anyone realized that he was acting too different to be considered 'normal'. Eating another burnt piece of toast, he made it to the door until he felt a hand touch his shoulder.

Takeru flinched, turning around, he met Yamato's concerned gaze.

"Uh…hi?"

The older of the two was wearing his green uniform, the traditional clothing of the high school Takeru was now attending. The boy had not yet gotten a new uniform, and was quite content with the one he had, even though it singled him out from the rest of the crowd.

"Where'd you go this morning?" Yamato asked, leaning against the wall, "I was worried."

The younger smiled, "Just for a walk…really! I needed to clear my mind."

"Well, whatever. You going to school?"

Takeru nodded, straightening his school bag and chewing his toast.

Yamato wiped his forehead, "Well, okay…see you." He walked away.

Takeru kept his breath and walked out, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Koushiro stepped into the computer lab of the school, going through the usual routine of playing a game of solitaire and then making sure the computers were all in working order. And, as customary, they all were, thanks to him and his handy work. A teacher walked by and they exchanged pleasantries before returning to their business.

It was about then that Takeru and the two Yagami's walked onto campus.

Hikari spotted Takeru first, sitting off on a secluded bench, staring off into nothing. She led Taichi over, who came without much provocation (he had learned that any argument or disagreement with Hikari was a large price he wasn't willing to pay). Seeing the boy on the bench, the young man sighed. At least it wasn't that Daisuke-Stalker kid.

"Come on, Taichi!" Hikari chirped, tugging harder, "I want you to meet him."

'Kids these days,' Taichi thought indolently, following. His sister rushed ahead and greeted the blond boy, persuading him to stand up. It took some insisting, but eventually he gave in. The boy uprighted himself, and turned around. Taichi's eyes glinted in amusement.

'Well at least she has some taste,' he was about to stick his hand out before he caught the younger's eyes. The dark blue, faded with a recent tragedy, something almost all too familiar.

"Hey, Taichi," he said quietly, smiling weakly, "Nice to see you."

And then it hit the older teen. Yamato's brother.

"Oh man! Takeru!" Taichi cried happily, he grinned widely. He looked the boy over, "_Geez!_ You've…grown up some, haven't you? I never thought I'd see the day…"

"A little," Takeru commented. "Just a little, I'm afraid I'll be shorter than most."

"But still! You ain't…a pipsqueak anymore, when'd you get here?"

Hikari shot him a disapproving gaze, which he ignored.

"Beginning of July…" Takeru responded, hushed.

Taichi's grin faded, "You've been here for a month and a half?"

"Taichi…" Hikari warned, glaring at him, "_Shush_. It's not our concern."

The older boy shrugged it off, "So how's your mom?"

This seemed to get Takeru extremely uncomfortable, digging his hands into his pockets, he stared at the dirt on the ground. It took him a while to answer, and to both of the Yagami's shock, Takeru trembled the entire time.

"She…" he began shakily, "She's dead…"

The other two were in stillness, stunned to silence. Hikari gently touched the boy's shoulder, not saying anything less she would destroy the tender moment.

"Come on," Taichi interrupted, "Koushiro's probably in the Tech Room…let's go visit him."

"Sounds great," Hikari replied, a little less than convincing. Urging Takeru to come along, she trailed her hand down his arm until she lightly held his hand, squeezing to reassure him that things were still okay. Takeru stiffened at her touch, but generally grew into relaxing. They approached the building and entered. Letting the girl take the lead, Takeru fell behind.

Koushiro was found typing furiously away at one of the computers.

"Hey! Computer-Nerd, Soccer-Freak here for some business," Taichi said cheerfully.

Koushiro turned around, just in time to see Hikari taking her hand away from Takeru's.

"Good morning, Taichi, Hikari, and…" he looked at the other boy, "Friend of Hikari's?"

"It's Takeru, you loser," Taichi lightly punched the computer boy's arm.

The young man at the computer widened his eyes, turning the chair around. Then, calm and smiling, "Well then, welcome back, Takeru."

"Good to be back," the boy replied with little enthusiasm. "What are you up to?"

"Oh," he turned his chair around, "Well, this one site is pretty interesting…it mentions the Digital World, ironically."

"What?!" was the gathered response.

"I know. Apparently, it's a site made by the speculators of Omnimon in the battle of the net. It's pretty in depth…incorrect, but interesting."

"Let me see!" Taichi leaned over Koushiro's shoulder, looking at the fuzzy pixel picture of Omnimon.  His hand found its' way to his chin, and he sighed, tired.

"Stupid fanboys," he cursed.

"Hm, well, this is actually the homepage of a student prodigy from a nearby town. He's done extensive research on the subject, and is currently trying to find a way _to _the Digital World."

"How can you act so calm about it?! This isn't good news, Koushiro!" Taichi snapped, jerking his chair, "Just imagine, they'll make all the digimon slaves! And even worse, the Virus will invade this world!"

"I'm aware of that, Taichi. I'm trying to hack into this guy's computer and try and delete what shouldn't be publicly known. He's pretty well protected, though…I'm having difficulties. He's set up a Code 666 program that I can't get past…"

"Code 666?" Takeru asked quietly, "Sounds a lot like the Hour of the Beast."

"Precisely, it's a hackers nightmare. It's a complex firewall that leads them in circles…I won't go into the details."

The bell rang, and all four of them jumped.

Hikari breathed hurriedly, "Homeroom is starting…"

"No it isn't. It's a mistake, the bell shouldn't ring for another forty minutes," Koushiro muttered, typing quickly. Pausing, he took hold of the mouse and proceeded to shutting the computer down.

"What are you doing?!" Taichi shouted.

"This isn't something I can do in one day, Taichi. Try to be logical. We have to take things slowly."

The older boy loosened his grasp and folded his arms, still glaring. "Fine! Did you get the name of the damn web master?"

Standing up, Koushiro nodded. "Yes. Ken Ichijouji."

Hikari and Takeru walked to their homeroom in silence, side by side. Entering, there were no other students, save one girl who sat at the back, staring out the window. Taking their seats, it took them a while to begin to talk. Right before Takeru was going to say something, Hikari called to the back of the classroom (where the girl sat).

"Hey, Miyako!"

The girl snapped to attention, staring their way. She had shoulder length lavender hair, and brown eyes with glasses that didn't seem to form her face too well. Moving her hand so it rested on the desk, she gave them her attention.

Hikari motioned her over, and Miyako reluctantly did so.

"Hi Hikari," she greeted. Looking to Takeru, she gave a small smile and held out her hand, "Miyako Inoue. Nice to meet you."

"Takeru Takaishi," the boy replied, shaking her hand lightly.

"You're that transfer, aren't you?"

"Ah…yeah…"

"Miyako? This is an old acquaintance of mine, I've known him since before I met you!" Hikari stated cheerfully, putting her hands on her hips. "He's Yamato's younger brother."

"YOU ARE KIDDING ME!" Miyako shouted, giving Takeru a startle. A fearful laugh escaped him.

"So…Yamato-sama's made quite a name for himself. Huh?" But it was too late, Miyako's eyes were now in dreamy mode as she stared straight at his eyes. He could have thought that he saw stars in her eyes. He averted his gaze and blushed.

Hikari whispered in Takeru's ear, "Sorry…Miyako really likes your brother."

Takeru blushed, twiddling his thumbs. He was used to living in his brother's shadow, so it didn't bother him as much any more. Nervous, he asked her to not look at him like that again. The bell for homeroom rang, and students began filing in. Hikari took her seat and Miyako hers.

School had begun.

The hours did not fly by as quickly as Takeru had hoped they would. After school him, Hikari, Taichi and Koushiro were going to the Tech room to try and figure out how to get a hold of the Ichijouji child. They all were eager to get that person's butt off the internet, but it was going to take a while to get past that 666 Program…

"What is the square root of two-hundred-fifty-six? Takaishi?" the teacher asked him with a small smile, aware that he hadn't been paying attention.

"Uh…um…sixteen, ma'am!" he cried, sinking in his seat.

"Correct. Now, we are on page twenty-five, if you would so kindly open up your book."

"Y-yes ma'am," he did as he was told, ignoring the snickering around the room.

They continued to review the quadratic formula, though Takeru had no idea as to what part it played in _Geometry_.

The last bell rang, and Takeru was assigned clean-up duty for the rest of the week due to his spacing out. Taking a wet rag, he started to clean the already vandalized desks.

Hikari walked up to him, and was about to say something when another boy stepped over, sneering.

"Well, well. Looks like A-Plus-Suck-Up has clean up duty," he laughed menacingly, folding his arms. "C'mon, Hikari, let's leave this loser alone."

"Go away, Daisuke, I don't want to talk to you," Hikari waved her hand in a dismissing manner.

The boy ignored her, instead, he grabbed Takeru's wrist and squeezed. Takaishi struggled not to flinch.

"So, you're Takaishi, huh?" Daisuke questioned.

Takeru didn't reply, he continued scrubbing the already clean desk in front of him. His stomach was turning flips, and he maintained his emotionless face.

Daisuke threw Takeru's wrist down, and, glaring, "Don't seem so tough to _me_."

Takeru gathered his courage, "Well, I wouldn't want to be judged by a total flake."

The other boy fumed as he pushed Takeru, making him stumble. "What'd you call me?!"

"Daisuke! STOP!" Hikari bellowed, shoving him away from the other, "If you fight, I'll scream. Now GO AWAY!"

Grumbling, Daisuke did so, folding his arms and stomping away.

Hikari helped Takeru up. "That was the guy I told you about…oh man, you shouldn't have replied."

"It's okay…" Takeru said, setting the rag down, "I'm used to not being liked."

"Hm," Hikari said, speculating. She grabbed his arm, where a little deep cut was, "We should clean that up."

"No, no, it's-"

"We wouldn't want it to get infected, right? I'll explain to the sensei." She led him out of the classroom, and into the nurse. Making the boy sit down, she grabbed the necessary things and told him to hold his arm out. Gently, she rubbed some alcohol on it and began to patch it up with a bandage.

Takeru tried to focus on anything other than Hikari holding his arm. Making sure he was staring at the floor, he kept as still as he could, holding in his pangs.

Hikari patted it gently, getting his attention. Smiling warmly, she said, "All better! Operation: Heal Takeru-kun's boo-boo…Success!"

"Indeed…" Takeru said, standing up. He helped Hikari put away the medical supplies. Informing the nurse that they were finished, they walked out, heading towards the classroom to get their bags. They strode to the Tech Room after that.

Taichi spun around angrily when the two younger teenagers walked in, "Where the hell were you two?!"

"Sorry, Taichi. Takeru-kun scratched his arm…"

"Oh," Taichi calmed down, and, scratching his tuft of brown hair, "Sorry…I was just worried. Koushiro just found something, and he wouldn't show me until you two got here."

Hikari nodded knowingly, and tugged Takeru over to the group, looking over Koushiro's shoulder at the screen, where numbers were flying across the screen, in a flurry so fast that they could see what numbers they were.

"What's that?" Takeru asked.

"My screensaver. Prodigious, eh?" Koushiro moved the mouse and began to type again.

"What'd you find?"

The person in question ignored the question for a little while, still typing as fast as humanly possible in his standards.

Pausing, Koushiro took a breath and began, "Well, the Code 666 I was talking about…this Ken character created a shadow of it, so it would _appear_ to be a Code 666, to fool the hackers. Ichijouji has created his own firewall code! Quite the feat, I must say."

"Did you find a way past it?" Taichi asked.

"Yes. After looking at the Omnimon picture for a long while, I found that he put specific coding _in_ the picture itself. The Omnimon is just a distraction, whereas all his _real_ research is encoded inside, is microscopic pictures," seeing their confused faces, he rephrased it, "Inside this picture of Omnimon, is millions among millions of smaller, and smaller pictures, who knows how far he's gone. But it's obvious that he is _not_ messing around."

Hikari thumbed her chin, speculating, "So, what does this mean?"

Koushiro let out a soft laugh, sarcastic, "Well…it would seem that it is a test. For anyone who is worthy enough to decode this complex encoding of his, they would find his secrets…and it's very…very plausible…" the rest hung on tense silence. Koushiro typed some more, enlarging the picture of Omnimon so much that they could see the smaller pictures. And what they saw shocked them.

Digimon. Digimon being tortured, beaten…dying…

And the faces…of the original Digidestined.

"Holy…shi-" Hikari covered Taichi's mouth, not wanting to hear any more profanity.

"What's very plausible, Koushiro?" she asked, shaken.

"That this Ken…he knows a way to the Digital World."

Takeru wobbled, the blood draining from his face, He clutched his stomach, seeing the injured Tokomon on the screen. Running to the trash bin, he began to vomit in pure disgust.

Koushiro began typing again, and the pictures enlarged more until there were burning numbers of zeros and ones on the screen. Koushiro rapidly translated.

DO NOT INTERFERE WITH ME

IF YOU VALUE YOUR LIVES OR DIGIMON FRIENDS

Next to it was a picture of a bleeding Tokomon, with Takeru luckily did not see. Taichi was gritting his teeth, Hikari, her face white as a sheet of blank paper. Koushiro closed the window and was about to shut down. Before he did, he faced them.

"It would seem…" he began, "He knows that we are the only ones who would try to dig through his site…"

"We know that, Computer-Nerd! We aren't complete morons!" Taichi shouted, punching the nearby wall.

Hikari walked over to Takeru, who was slumping on the ground, shaking. She knelt down beside him, forbidding herself to touch him. He mumbled wordlessly to himself. Koushiro and Taichi were arguing.

"Takeru-kun…" Hikari mumbled.

He suddenly gasped and held his stomach in great agony, only just barely suppressing a yelp. He bit his tongue, sweating vehemently. Hikari shouted for help, but the pain only increased a ten-fold over. It felt as if his stomach was exploding as his heart seemed to squeeze itself, emptying of blood. The world started to ebb away, tainting red, like the blood that was coating his hands. The last thing he saw before everything turned black altogether was Hikari starting to writhe in pain, clutching her head.

On the skin over his heart, a deep purple scorch ingrained itself.

_Floating…deftly…floating. The naked boy curled up in the expanse of white that encompassed him. His blond hair flowed freely, swaying in an unfelt wind. His eyes were shut. He seemed the age of eight or nine. He looked peaceful enough. If he had opened his eyes, they would have been an ocean blue color, deep and innocent, like the child he was._

_It was then that his limbs began to stretch, thinning. His body became figured, frail, and extremely white. His hair dulled from a light blond to a flat blond, lacking in much character. His jaw formed, and his nose became more noticeable. Uncurling, he floated with his arms and legs flowing beside him. The pure white around him dimmed to a sort of off-white, and then to gray. A shadow enveloped him as light blue shades circled under his eyes, marking a sort of stress element. His peaceful look faded to one of mellowness…_

_Two hands reached out of his chest, a young boy emerged. He looked like the child that the other young man had been before, his face innocent, yet sad, as he faced the other one. His hair was pure white, making it a large contrast from his tanned skin. He had a dark black mark over his heart, in the shape of a sun casting a shadow. It glowed as he embraced the other boy, crying freely. The one crying looked snapped in half, both in mind and in heart. He was utterly lost._

Hikari awoke in a hospital, IV's sticking in her arm. She looked blearily to her left, where her brother Taichi sat, half-asleep. His blood-shot eyes gave her a small idea of how long she had been out of it. Struggling to sit up, she found that she couldn't, strapped down tightly. Hikari was tired, anyway, and she rested back into the pillow.

"Ani…" she whispered to him, so quiet she could hardly hear herself. Her head began to pound. The white walls glared at her menacingly…she hated hospitals…

Taichi shook himself awake and stepped to her, holding her hand, "'Kari…are you okay?"

"Head hurts…is…is Takeru-kun…okay?"

Taichi tightened his grip on her hand, and his eyes glazed over. Hikari noticed his change in behavior and pressed the subject.

"Is he okay, ani?"

"I wouldn't know, Hikari," Taichi said finally, biting his lip, "He disappeared."

"What?!" Her head throbbed, but she had learned as a child to cope with the pain, as the two of them well knew.

"His…His digivice glowed…he disappeared after you past out…Koushiro thinks he's in the Digital World."

Hikari's eyes widened, "In the Digiworld?!"

"Where else where would he be? All our digivice's activated, I've already gotten calls from everyone else. But Takeru was the only one pulled through the rift,"  Taichi pulled his hand away, and began to pace around the room, "but besides that…you were almost pulled…are you okay?"

"I…" Hikari began, "Just like old times…I suppose."

Her older brother looked straight at her, "The old times weren't exactly a walk in the park for you, Hikari. Is that how it feels?"

"Only my head blowing up," she replied cynically, "How is Yamato-san taking this?"

"Hm," he said, grinning, "Well, if you consider pulling his hair out by the roots and not practicing his guitar okay; then I guess he's just peachy."

Taichi walked back over to her, "Don't worry. Koushiro's working on a way to get into the Digital World as we speak. He says if he just reciprocates the data that the digivice put off yesterday, he'll be able to pry the Gate open with his ingenious…uh…ingenious."

"You think it will work?"

"Only time will tell," he felt her forehead. Satisfied, he drew away, "At least you're not burning up anymore. You'll be out of here in no time…as I know you want."

"No kidding…" Hikari said tiredly. She once again struggled with the bonds. Holding back tears, she knew full well why they had tied her up. Taichi took his seat.

"I'll stay until you fall asleep."

"Thank you…" Hikari whispered in gratitude, and let her eyes fall gradually on their own.

Hikari soared often between conscious and unconsciousness, scarcely taking in her surrounding as doctors examined her head, shining lights into her eyes. She was no longer afraid of the doctors and their gizmos/gadgets, as she was poked and prodded with needles and medicine fairly often for the first ten years of her life, her nervous system weak. She was born that way, immunity cells not working their best, but it was not AIDS, as the surgeons had first predicted her to have. Her arms remained strapped to the bed beneath her, a precaution from doing what she had done in the past. She hissed silently, she wouldn't try _that_ again, as a promise to her brother.

Her mind encountered a small light, and she crept towards it daily, hoping, always hoping, that it would lead her to her desired place. Her arms stretched in front of her, she let the soft humming of long ago comfort her.

One of the days someone drove her home, and she slept on, all the while aware that someone was holding her hand. A few hours later she woke up, seeing Taichi slumped on the seat beside her.

An onlooker would have probably immediately noticed the complete lack of adults in the building. It would seem that these two children were the only ones residing in the small apartment. Hikari sat up and rubbed her sweaty forehead, grimacing when it pounded only slightly. Taichi fell forward once she took her hand away, and fell lightly on the mattress, snoring.

Hikari grinned, more than a little amused. She gingerly touched his head, and looked around the room. She felt her spirits fall as her eyes caught sight of a growing pile of homework on the kitchen table, along with a few cards from fellow students.

The toilet flushed, and a worn out Jyou stepped through. He saw her staring at him and he smiled. Scratching his shoulder-length blue hair, he came over to her. "Hey, nice to see you're up."

"Nice to be up…" Hikari replied, "How are you?"

"Oh, fine, fine," Jyou said, shuffling over to the kitchen and taking something out of the cabinet. Filling a spoon with thick moisture, he walked back over to her, "Open wide…"

"Ah," Hikari said, minding him. She opened her mouth wider upon his command and had disgusting herbal medicine shoved down her throat. She gagged momentarily, but soon got over it.

"That should help if you get a headache…" he felt her head, and nodding, he turned back to the kitchen.

"How long was I out this time?" Hikari asked.

"Oh…not too long," he answered evasively.

"How long?"

"A few days, Hikari. Don't worry yourself."  
"Jyou…_how long_?"

"Three days, okay? You'll be fine!" he leaned onto the counter, "Sheesh, you haven't changed a bit!"

"Well, all's well that end's well, I always say," she retorted, and started to slide out of the mattress. Cold air smacked her bare skin, and her legs quivered brusquely, she leaned onto the wall. Quaking, she slowly made her way about the room, taking exercises she had taught herself long ago to recover quickly. Jyou watched her carefully, to make sure she wouldn't hurt herself.

"So…" Hikari commenced, starting to sweat, "H…How is Koushiro c-coming along on the Gate?"

"I don't know…he's been buried in his house since the day you fell unconscious and Takeru disappeared. He won't rest off that computer, but I suppose that's a good thing."

Hikari paused to catch her breath. He strength was seeping away fast, but she gained control of herself and slowly sunk to the floor instead of collapsing. Jyou treaded over, knowing she wasn't in any kind of real danger. He rested his hands on her shoulders reassuringly, "Hey…hey…don't push yourself, 'Kari-chan…"

The girl sagged downward, feeling her body as if it were jelly. She fell forward, bones cracking and joints bent in awkward ways. The world around her swirled, but she kept her composure, breathing in rapid gasps. Jyou watched her in interest, admiring her grasp on reality even as her physical needs demanded her to fall unconscious once more.

"I…It's coming…" she felt herself mutter inaudibly as she could no longer hold on, and fell again to the dusk that had swallowed her in its bloody fangs so long ago…

**Digimon Odyssey**

**Episode One (part two): Who Will Keep…the Keepers Themselves?**

Baying wind brushed over the top of her sore body, and the briskness of the ocean water bathed her in its arctic fingers, numbing the extremities of her body. Naked, her body was soon in tremors, unable to feel her hands or her feet. White seagulls flew overhead, giving off their musical, sorrowful cry that echoed off the canyon walls and rebounded back to her eardrums. The cloudy sky above her cracked with lightning every few moments. A droplet of precipitation rudely hit her eye, and she blinked in surprise. The drop was soon followed by a marching band of sleet, knocking into the girl, cutting deep into the skin, bruising.

If she felt the pain, she did not make it apparent on her face. She sat up with little or no difficulty.

From an onlooker's point of view, one could easily see the strange markings lining her body, a kind of language in the form of tattoos. They showed purple and blue, dark and mysterious, they trailed all the way from the bottom of her neck to the tops of her hands and feet, not the palms or soles. Her hair was a dreary indigo, streaked with silver. Cat-like ears popped out at the sides, furless except for at the end, where some fuzz sprouted.

Lifting her hand, she glanced at it, turning it around and around. The palm was scorched over badly, peeling at the edges of the burns. Her mouth moved, forming a small word, slow, inarticulate.

"No…va… No…va…"

She chanted until her quiet voice weakened to stillness. Her hand fell back to the beach, water gushing in between her shaking fingers. Her gape went skywards, to the fierce some sky that belched thunder and took pictures of the gloom with lightning. The temperature dropped further, and though her face still continued to be deadpan, her body began to turn a pale purple color, too cold to shiver.

The clouds were clashing against each other, lightning jumping from one to another in an insane game of hopscotch. They grew darker, and so much thicker, whereas before there could still be some of the blue sky peeking through. Even the most thickheaded of creatures could tell that this weather was not normal, not even here. Not even in the Crash-Zero.

Then the clouds began to spin, creating a funnel to the abyss of the universe above. The girl watched on, unaware that she was dying of the cold. She coughed once or twice, but kept firm in her position. The sleet that was attacking her stopped and was replaced by bone-numbing rain as the clouds seemed to form a giant spear, pointing upward.

They span wildly, at unimaginable speed. The ocean itself was beginning to lift, its waves flowing skywards instead of to the beach. Rocks levitated and were starting to be sucked up. A great howling filled the air, so high pitched that only those with the keenest ears could pick up.

Green light exploded in the center of the funnel of the hurricane. A large blast, blowing everything that had been coming up was now thrown miles away. The girl saw a figure fall out of the green mass…squinting, she was just able to identify the person as a boy with pure white hair, followed closely by another girl with brown hair…

The figure on the beach immediately recognized the female as Hikari, as they had met each other many a time when she was thrown into this world. Hikari had not been there as of late, which was a good thing, considering what the place was. They both splashed into what was left of the ocean, and were thrown violently onto the beach by an unseen hand in the water. Hikari landed within arms reach of the girl, but the boy was several feet away, falling victim to the rocks on the beach. Blood seeped out of a new gash on his forehead, tainting his seemingly pure-white locks.

The funnel in the sky disappeared then, and everything was thrown down by the force of gravity. Rocks smashed into the churning waters, and pebbles most likely found their way to hitting the bodies on the shore. The clouds themselves seemed to fall, and, with a loud rumble, broke up and a flood of water came tumbling down.

The girl gripped the sands to keep her place when the tidal wave from the sky crashed into them. The cold, worse than the icicles of rain drops, bit deeper and deeper, until she was finally aware of how freezing it really was. The tattoos on her glowed a soft green, and the three bodies waned away from sight…

**WARNING: UNKNOWN USER**

**CODE 78829 INNITIATING**

**LOG OFF IN THE NEXT****-**

"Dammit," Koushiro cursed aloud, hastily pressing the power button. Those folks in the Digital World sure knew how to put up a firewall; that was for sure. He leaned back into the rolling chair and was slowly beginning to give up. 'I'm sure there are thousands of others who have tried to get in the Digiworld after what happened six years ago…but I thought I-'

He laughed bitterly, a laugh of a person in despair. Closing his laptop, he got up and started pacing, cupping his chin in his hand. Glaring at the floor, he started to think things through from the beginning.

Outside, the sun had long finished its' cycle around the earth, and the moon was about to reach its high point in the sky, signaling to the boy that he was only hurting himself in staying up for the third night in a row. Shadows were accumulated under his eyes, and he plopped down on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

'How could _I_ have thought that things would be different if I tried to hack into the Digiworld…you're such an idiot, Koushiro…' he folded his hands behind his head, 'It's obvious that I'm not going to be able to force the Gate open, or it would have been open so many days ago…perhaps…?'

He fell asleep.

Taichi stirred and opened his eyes, still in the awkward position of leaning on Hikari's mattress. Sluggish pushing himself up, he flinched when his back cracked in protest of the movement. It was still dark out, and he had no idea what had awoken him at this ungodly hour. Scratching his head, he looked around the room and his eyes fell upon his sister sleeping on the couch. He noticed that she was scarcely breathing, and the way she lay so rigid…

"She's there…" he said quietly, and stood up, "Crash-Zero."

It had begun happening when she was nine or ten, when the family had begun to unravel by the edges. She would visit during the night, her dreams taking her to that world which Taichi had only scarcely been acquainted to…a world where Hikari could escape reality and frolic in a world where no one would think she was insane.

And she had related this world and her opinions to a doctor once…and ended up getting locked in a small room. Taichi believed she was completely sane, because he had been to Crash-Zero once…when Piximon had thought he and Agumon needed special training…

Taichi felt something rumbling on his belt, and he took it off with his right hand. His eyes widened.

The digivice. Glowing…glowing orange.

He dashed to the telephone and rapidly dialed a number.

Agumon emerged from their secluded hideout in the ground, looking around at the burned scenery. The trees that had been there previous were eradicated, leaving the earth barren and black. Ash crumbled beneath his hind legs as he strode out, squinting at the sun. He raised a claw and shadowed his eyes, trying to see farther than he could. It proved to be futile, however, for as far as the eye could see, the fire had devoured everything. His dark green eyes clouded over, saddened, he turned around and met the gazes of Gatomon and Tokomon. The stared intensively, giving their complete attention. Agumon didn't want to destroy their hopes…but hiding it would only hurt more. He shook his head slowly.

The smaller of the two fell to the ground, trying to hold his head with his small pink legs. Tokomon sobbed quietly, keeping his sniffles to a minimum. Gatomon sat down as well, her hopes leaving her, and she looked utterly dazed at the turn of events. Agumon walked back in.

He stayed silent for a long time, allowing for all of them to allot for their pain of losing their home. The small dinosaur knew that they couldn't spare much time, however, they needed to find food, for they hadn't eaten in three days now. It was beginning to show, as well; with the gradually sluggish movement of all of them.

"We…can't stay here," he said at last, "We have to find our friends. We have to regroup."

They didn't respond, but got up and exited the small home they had made for themselves. Agumon watched over them sadly, and followed.

They traveled northward for several hours, Agumon holding the lead. The wasteland was everywhere, haunting them, taunting. They paused only to rest when it was indeed necessary. The sky above them was a smoke-gray, and the air was hard to breathe, clogging up their nostrils, itching their eyes, and parching their throat. They met no one on their journey.

Then, Gatomon spotted something in the distance. The first moving thing they had seen besides the dirt for over thirteen hours (which was when they had begun the treacherous trek).

"Look!" she cried, pointing her claw to the expanse in front of her. Agumon looked where she stared and indeed saw a shadow stumbling along, limping. Tokomon did not look, but fell to the ground in exhaustion.

"HEY!" Agumon yelled to the unknown figure, "YOU! CAN YOU HEAR ME?!"

The shadow continued to move around wildly, until they fell to their knees and collapsed. Agumon sucked in his breath, "They need our help."

Gatomon walked as fast as she could forward, but Tokomon could not. Agumon picked the small In-Training up and proceeded forward.

The shadow was a lot farther away than they had originally predicted. Gatomon was the first to reach the body, and when she did, she was speechless. The small dinosaur-like digimon caught up with her and looked down, examining the body.

"It's…" the feline started.

"A human."

And yes it was. It was a skinny boy, with flaxen blond hair hanging over his face like straw. He had nothing on, and was scratched all over the place, his ribs exaggerated through the sides of his body. His skin was sunburned and peeling badly, his lips severely chapped. He looked, to say in the least, horrible.

Agumon knelt down beside the boy, and turned him around so his face was upward. A terrible gash was running across his abdomen, and a deep purple scar was embedded on the flesh over his heart, in the form of a swirling tear. But Agumon soon forgot all of this as his sight lay upon the boy's hand, which clenched something so tightly that his knuckles were white. Curious, the digimon reached forward and unfurled the fingers, exposing the sweaty, yellow glowing digivice.

"The boy-"

"Takeru," Gatomon finished, and her mask of emotions fell away. In ways she could, she began to cry, her eyes watering, she crawled to the human. Takeru breathed in spasmodic breaths, but otherwise did not wake up.

Agumon gently took Tokomon off of his head and set him down on the boy's chest. The small, In-Training digimon did not know this, however. With the reunion of digimon and partner, Takeru's digivice began to glow brighter and brighter, its light swallowing them all.

Agumon felt his strength returning, the surge of power…growing…with…!

"Taichi!" the Rookie digimon shouted, an orange aura of power surrounding him. He felt that he should digivolve or explode…! He gasped for air, trying to control himself. He felt his bonds of tame and monster slipping, much like the time in the battle with the other Greymon. He bared his teeth, his muscles tensing, going past the ordinary limit. But he couldn't…he couldn't digivolve! On the edge, so very close yet so far; he could not feel the knuckles of the Dark Towers holding them to their will no more…no more…his muscles ripped as a terrible roar split through the night, transcending time and space. He underwent head splitting pain as he forced himself to the next level of Champion.

His roar became lower and lower, until it was so low that the ground beneath him shook violently, cracking. He felt his body growing, a mask of bone covering his skull with the thickness of two of the mightiest mountains. Stripes drew themselves on his orange scales, and from the mask sprouted two horns. He screamed again, this time breathing fire. But it would not stop there.

It was even more painful for him to evolve into the Ultimate. The toughest of metals covering the mask, toned chest, and left arm. His shoulder blades shuddered as two great wings came out and hair grew from the back of his neck.

Metalgreymon stood in the middle of the desert in all of his glory, quaking from rage and bewilderment. All that could be seen on his face were the whites of his eyes and his salivating mouth. Roaring, only those with keen perception could interpret the words:

_"Gisha Destroyer"_

And with that, all of the metal gadgets on his body opened, and a black line of energy exploded outward and into the sky. It ripped through the Gate that separated Earth from the Digital World. Metalgreymon was no where to be seen, but in place was a cataleptic, pink Koromon.

In the mind of the small digimon, he was smiling contentedly, feeling that he had accomplished a great deal.

In the ancient texts of the Digiworld, Koromon stood for brave little warrior, and there were no other words that could describe him better than that.

Beside him were Gatomon, Takeru, and Tokomon, all in the positions they had been in before…as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

On earth, the grounds began to rumble, a horrifying earthquake over took the entire planet. And ten individuals vanished from sight.

Travelling across dimensions is never an easy process-or so Taichi thought when he first was sucked into the Digital World. One would encounter extreme nausea and then would feel like he or she was being compressed by a steam roller a tenfold over and over again. You would spin and spin and spin, giving a new meaning to the words that ring masters usually say at the circus.

_"Round and round and round they go…where they stop, nobody knows!"_

And then when they were going through the final layers of going across a time/space continua, you would feel like you were slammed into a brick wall. You would again feel like you were being flattened into a two-dimensional being against that certain wall; and it would continue like that until you felt the wall breaking.

Ten bodies fell from the gray sky in the Digital World then. None of the digimon on the ground saw that, though, but Gatomon heard a thump near her and opened her eyes.

The still form of Taichi was nearby, and at first he was shirtless and in a pair of boxers, but a green light bounded him and then he was in a loose brown tunic with cream-colored pants. In his hand was his glowing digivice.

"Taichi!" she cried, bounding to him. She nudged her dry nose onto his cheek, and, when he didn't move, she dug her claws into his leg.

"OW! Neko you little-!" he shouted, sitting up abruptly and trying to find his pet cat that every so often liked to use him as a scratch post. He looked down suddenly, and his sleepy eyes widened at the sight of his sister's digimon partner. "G-Gatomon…?!"

She sat down on her hind legs and gave a fleeting look of sarcasm to his face, "What? Do I have to cough up a fur ball?"

Taichi leaned on his hands, still dazed as to where he was. Lifting up his hand, he saw that he was clutching his digivice (still glowing). He then started to turn around himself, shooting glances everywhere. Then to Gatomon:

"Did you see anyone else?"

"Hm…" the feline though for a few seconds, but then remembering Takeru, "No…but Taichi…Takeru's hurt bad. Come look."

The young man looked behind her and saw the injured Takeru, and when he did, his jaw neatly dropped.

"Oh my _god_," he uttered, hastily getting up and running to the boy. He skimmed over him, running his fingers over some of the deeper cuts. "Christ…" he mumbled, "How long has he been like this?"

"I don't know. We just found him. Is his skin supposed to be that color?" she asked, referring to the yellow-slash-red flesh on several spots of Takeru's body.

"No. He's really sunburned and malnourished at the moment. God damn it, where's Jyou when you need him?" he whispered helplessly. Taking hold of the sleeve of his tunic, Taichi tore it off and pressed it onto the gash on the boy's abdomen. He pressured it just a little, hoping to get the bleeding to stop. Taichi did this for a little while, and when the bleeding slowed, he hefted Takeru on his back gently.

"We need to find shade, and some water," he said, in a little despair. There was absolutely nothing as far as the eyes could see. Gatomon, could you carry Tokomon and…" his eyes saw the other figure of Koromon, and it took all of his strength not to drop Takeru out of shock. He shut his eyes as he tried to force his immediate need to let go of his load and go hold Koromon instead, "Would you carry Koromon as well?"

Gatomon reluctantly shook her head, and when he looked angry, she quickly added, "I'm sorry Taichi, I've been walking non-stop for the last fifteen hours and I haven't eaten in three or four days. I can barely hold myself up let alone carry two others."

The older teen closed his eyes again; he shifted Takeru's body, "Oh…then…" he continued after some contemplation, "Get up on my shoulder. I'll take us as far as I can."

Gatomon nodded, and though she wasn't too happy at the prospect of riding on someone's shoulder, she was simply too exhausted to complain. She struggled with the bodies of Koromon and Tokomon, but eventually got onto the spot where she would finally be able to rejuvenate.

At long last, Taichi took off, in the direction that the trio of digimon had been heading in before.

The sun was relentless. The heat was overwhelming as hours later; Taichi felt his vigor beginning to fray. The three digimon were still asleep on his shoulder, and Takeru had fared no better. The wetness on Taichi's own back was still in question as to if it was the boy's blood or Taichi's sweat. However, years of pushing his limit in soccer kept him going far past his normal exertion point.  Though he had walked in the same direction for hours on end, he still saw nothing else except the barren wasteland that had become of the terra firma. Perspiration dripped down his face as he struggled not to pant, knowing full well that it would only serve to dehydrate him faster.

'Keep going…going…going…' he repeated to himself fiercely, swallowing. He straightened his back for the seemingly the hundredth time since beginning, slouching while walked with this weight was tiring him out only too fast.

His feet were aching, begging to rest. Taichi's hamstrings burned, his muscles stretched. The sunburns forming on his cheeks and back of his neck laughed menacingly at him.

He snapped awake.

Taichi hadn't even been aware that he had fallen asleep.

It was cold out, but the sun had not set. And it didn't look like it would set any time soon either. Taichi didn't bother to question the strange phenomena, but sat up and looked to his sides. Takeru was there, looking a little better than he had before, and the three digimon were within arms reach.

He sighed in relief, leaning his head into his hands. He instantly flinched as his back felt like it was torn in half, and his neck like it was stretched too far. He gingerly reached behind him and brushed his flesh, biting his tongue to hold back a yelp.

And then he threw his head back and laughed. Eyeing Takeru, he mumbled, "Haha…seems I'm in the same situation as you are now, bud…"

He was sunburned badly, and the places where the other boy had bled onto him was burned like streams of acid. It was boggling, but Taichi did not necessarily care about that…all he knew was that it hurt. He tentatively sat down, stretching his legs out as he extended his legs out in front of him. Taichi could barely feel his legs they were so tired. He reached over and drew the still form of Koromon closer to him, nuzzling his head into his friends.

"Hey, Koromon…nice to see you again…"


	2. Episode Two: Woe to the Vanquished

Disclaimer: Digimon and all of its characters belong to Toei and Bandai Animation.

**Author's Notes:** _I have so many re-writes of this episode it's getting on my nerves. This has got to be the sixth draft at least and I'm still not pleased with it. It's nothing so bad as Writer's Block, as I have the exact idea of what I want…but it's not coming out right! Hopefully this will be fine (grumbling)…I wish it would just turn out right for once. _

**Digimon Odyssey**

**Episode Two: Woe to the Vanquished**

In the desert of what was once File Island, one could see from high above a silhouette struggling in the dry winds. The shadow was fighting valiantly well against the forces of nature, even with the heavy load on its back. Guessing from the long line of footprints behind him, he had been travelling for a long, long time. And it showed.

Taichi had been walking for a day and a half now. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth as he kept trying and trying to find shelter…but all there was, was the barren wasteland before him and the unconscious figures on his back. Judging from his face he was barely awake, one of his eyes swollen shut, the other half open. His endurance was far exceeding his breaking point, but he held on.

Sand squished underneath his feet as he forced one step after another, no longer sweating. If he had had his eyes open he might have been able to see the mountains that were a short distance away. The mountain itself was made of stiff sand, but a cavern was visible a short way up. Taichi just walked blindly forward, letting the mind's eye take him where it would. His legs felt like they were on auto pilot, heavy logs that were mechanically making their way forward, fighting off the urge to collapse successfully. Taichi's head hung low.

Unbeknownst to him, his digivice was beeping loudly at his side, signaling that another Digidestined was nearby. The dot on the map the gadget was blue, and it would be saying that Yamato was extremely close by…if Taichi had the mind to hear it.

He was far off in his own little world, driven delusional by the heat. And it was hot, nearing one hundred and twenty-two degrees Fahrenheit out, which was hot…even by those who live near the Equator on Earth. Perspiration had stopped dripping down his face long ago, a statement. He was severely dehydrated.

He walked on.

Yamato and Gabumon were indeed close by, checking the digivice every few moments to see if they were getting any closer to the target, Taichi…and whoever was with him. They had left the shade of the mountains once they had received a signal by Taichi.

Gabumon squinted in the sunlight, overshadowing his red eyes with his paw. He spotted a small movement a few kilometers to their northeast.

"Yamato!" the digimon cried, and pointed out the shadow that was slowly heading towards the mountains.

The young man squinted as well, and, looking again at the digivice in his hand, nodded. "That's him."

When Yamato had arrived in the Digiworld in his pajamas, the same occurrence had happened to him as had happened to Taichi. A green light had surrounded him and now he wore loose pants and shirt with the strange Digital Runes on the inside of them.

Gabumon slighted his head and they headed in a steady pace towards Taichi, ignoring the parched feeling in their mouths. Yamato's shirt stuck to his skin, and he felt like dirt was crawling up his body, but ignored it.

His digivice suddenly rumbled in his hand, and he looked down in immediate attention. There, right exactly on top of Taichi's signal, was a yellow dot, beating frantically. His eyes widened as he looked closer, squeezing the small equipment in urgency he rarely felt.

"Takeru…"

Gabumon turned around, seeing Yamato was not keeping step with him. "What is it?"

"Takeru is with Taichi, Gabumon! He's alive!"

Gabumon nodded in understanding, but cautioned him not to quicken their pace, as their stamina would not keep in this heat. The teen agreed reluctantly.

They fared better in the sun in that they didn't have four other objects to carry, unlike Taichi. In the pace they were going, they would probably cross paths with Taichi within the hour.

Yamato's eyes looked strained, his usually deep blue eyes faded over, giving him a far off look. He gripped his digivice, his knuckles turning white. He gritted his teeth.

"Don't blame yourself, Yamato," Gabumon said, still walking with his back to him. "It was out of your hands."

"I'm not…" Yamato said meekly. "Okay, maybe I am."

"Then don't," his friend advised wisely. "There's nothing more pitiful than a person who takes responsibility for everything, even the faults of others. It's a sign that you have a lack of self-confidence…though I'm very confident your esteem is high."

"I guess," Yamato said, smiling sarcastically, "Still the smartest of them all."

"I only learned from the best," Gabumon hinted, laughing lightly.

A wind snapped from the left, startling the human and only causing the digimon to shield his head. Squinting through his claws he kept his sights on Taichi so they did not some how change directions in the spraying dust. Glancing hurriedly back at Yamato, he grabbed his hand and began tugging them along, the only one able to see in this dust storm.

The refrained from talking, in a fear that dirt would get into their mouths and they would waste their strength gagging and choking to get the dust out of their systems.

The sand picked up in speed, and then even Gabumon was beginning to get bewildered. They halted where they were, and only hoped that Taichi and the others had done the same.

'What's going on?!' Gabumon thought frantically as he was wrenched away from his partner and flown into the increasing winds. He began to scream in horror, being picked up higher and higher into the sky, until the winds stopped all together.

The digimon plummeted to the ground, hearing a playful laughter emit from the very sands itself. Gabumon struggled up, trembling. Then the sand below them shuddered and then they were all beginning to sink.

"Yamato!" Gabumon shrieked, seeing his unconscious friend nearby, sand just beginning to swallow his face. Words sounded from the sand...

**_My territory…my game, my rules. So glad you could join me today…it was getting lonely._**

'How could I have been so foolish?! Of course such a large expanse had to be a trap, waiting!' the small wolf chided himself, 'And I fell for it like an amateur!'

The sand was now up to his stomach, and it was constricting. The very breath in his body seemed to heave out in one great gasp, and it left him in a state of shock so great that he just sagged forward.

**_That's right…_**

The sand slowly slithered its way over his head.

**_Just let go, and everything will be all right…_**

"Yamato…" Gabumon whispered pitifully, "Forgive me."

**_Let go…_**

And…

**_I'll take care of you. I'll be your friend always._**

**__**

In the large desert formally known as File Island, the disturbances that had risen alarm in the Digimon Kaiser's secret Base ceased to be almost as suddenly as it had arose. Digimon of all sorts were bustling about the Base, all their eyes glowing a deep red and each owning a Dark Ring on some part of their body, encrypted with the Digital Runes. When the alarm had died down, the Kaiser had ordered everyone just to forget that it had ever happened. For what reasons (the Kaiser _usually_ was a very precise and organized person, taking note of everything and never letting a single detail go to waste), none of them knew. All except one; and this digimon did not harbor the red eyes or the Black Ring.

He was a small insect, grass green in color with earthy red stripes in the middle of his two antennae, a black stripe encircling his tail. He did not possess the same mean glares as the others either, rather, a more pained expression…his eyes showing that he held a bitter battle from within.

He crawled through the bleak hallways, making himself as inconspicuous as he possible could. No matter how many turns he took, he never seemed to look lost, like he had traveled this route many, many times before. The farther he went, the fewer digimon there were, which for him was a good thing, as he was commonly used as a punching bag for those who were in the mood to let off some steam.

Finally he approached a large metallic door. On it were blaring blood red figures in a language that the small digimon couldn't read. He approached it and knocked silently on it three times in one spot, and two times in another. The door slid right open, and shut after the digimon had made its' way in.

The interior was not lit. But one with keen eyes could see that there was someone else in there besides the small insect. The smaller of the two immediately froze in the presence, taking care that he was moving with the exact precision that was expected of him.

"Hello, Wormmon," a snide voice pervaded the darkness. Small breaths could be heard. "And what do you want to pester me with today?"

"Master…was it Suna?"

"I don't believe I gave you any right to speak, Wormmon."

"I'm sorry, Master," Wormmon said with a small incline of his head. "But you said-"

"I know what I said, Wormmon."

"So, was it?"

"I don't think a digimon of your class really requires to know. But, if you insist; yes, it was Suna, yet again."

A press of a button. A screen blipped on in the room, and it showed a recording of a ferocious sand storm swallowing the something that none of them could see, but at the same time knew it was there.

"Suna. That bitch doesn't know when to stop," the Kaiser let out a hissing laugh. "What is she up to this time…?"

Wormmon quite rightly kept his silence, only examining as Ken went about watching the video over and over again, committing everything to memory. This went on for a long while, before the Kaiser was getting frustrated with his failure to find an answer, and took it out on Wormmon.

"What more do you want?!" his fist struck the arm of his chair, "Just shut up, you worthless piece of trash!"

'I didn't say anything…' Wormmon thought to himself, and was beginning to turn around and head out.

"Is that all you wanted to know?!" Ken snapped angrily.

"Yes, Master. I was only curious."

"It was none of your concern!"

"You're right in that fact…however, everything dealing with you is my business to know," and left before he could be punished for his giving lip.

The Kaiser eased back into the chair, glad to be rid of a nuisance. He hastily pressed the button to leave him in darkness once again, reclining into the pit that was his emotions.

"Suna…" he whispered, and covered his eyes.

Yamato awoke some time later on hard ground, but a soft pillow beneath his head. He rose up, realizing that he had no shirt on, and a basic cloth covered his legs. He was also alone.

The youth looked around the room, not caring too much that he had almost nothing on. He was usually alone around the house on the weekends, so he had eventually grown used to being bare without any limitations, however, he was extremely modest when others were around.

The room he was in was basically made up of a strange wood texture. It was smooth beneath the touch of his fingertips, marking that it was very old indeed. A door at the far end of the room.

It was quiet.

Now that he noticed it, it bugged him. He hated silence, even at home he would usually be playing some music on the guitar or on the radio to keep him company, and a temporary escape from his thoughts. It pervaded him, filled him, and his ears made it a buzz. An annoying buzz.

Yamato scratched the back of his head. Stretching and yawning, it just dawned on him how tired he really was. He wondered briefly how long he had been out of it. The last thing he remembered was being thrown away from Gabumon, and then hitting a rock…

Thinking of rock, he gingerly touched the back of his head and found the tender bump. Wincing at every touch, he traced the entire shape. Luckily it had been a flat rock.

A creak. Yamato snapped to alertness and glanced that way, also fixing the cloth that covered him.

It was an older woman, presumably in her thirties. She had long auburn hair and icy blue eyes. She wore a simple kimono, not dressed for fanciful reasons, but for practical. She approached Yamato (who wasn't embarrassed by his nakedness but tried to cover it anyway with the cloth). In her hands she held an outfit, along with his digivice.

The teen's eyes widened. She wasn't going to use her having the most important tool he had against him, would she? She didn't look menacing, but she didn't look exactly all pure and good. He folded his arms and his eyes met hers. His held suspicion…hers indifference.

She stopped two feet away from him, and gently set his accessories down. Never breaking eye contact, she stood straight yet again and drew in a mythical breath.

"Welcome, Son of Man. If you feel you need cleansing, there are baths just out in the hallway, first door to your left. If you need any help with anything, please…don't hesitate to ask me."

"Where are my friends?" Yamato asked, not missing a beat. "Are they hurt?"

"No, young man. One is not hurt. You can find the young man your age in the first door to your right, however, the digimon and the younger one were in critical condition and cannot be visited until my treatment with them is through."

Yamato cringed, "My brother…he is dying?"

"No need to be so drastic, Son of Man. You're lucky that I found you all when I did. If his condition had continued for a few more hours, the damage would have been far, far worse."

The teen nodded in understanding, "But…how do I know if I should trust you? Who _are_ you?"

The woman smiled wistfully, "You shouldn't trust me, that much I can say. As for my name, most call me _Suna_."

"Suna…?" Yamato threw the question into the air, "But doesn't that mean…?"

"Sand," she replied, and turned to leave. "I hope you enjoy your stay here, Son of Man."

The door closed behind her on its' own.

_Who am I?_

_The question hung reflexively around his body. Takeru floated in a demented world, one that had no end or beginning, it was simply there. Like oil it thickly touched him, poisoning him. He sunk deep, into a pit of blackness in which only those with the will to live can successfully escape and live to tell the tale. _

_His face held one of mixed pain and fear. In his slumber he clutched at the purple swirling mark on his heart. It seemed to give him pain to have it, like it was leeching something out of him that he could never recover. _

_Who…am I?_

_Memories of his life spread through his eyes: the divorce, the separation, Digiworld, the move, the loneliness, the _abandonment_. His figure quaked uneasily, the more he questioned himself the more lost he soon became. _

_Who…am…I?_

_To what end of the universe would he be pitted at? And what would he battle the raging emotions in him to come back to what the other knew…that the others…loved?_

_NO!_

_They didn't care! They never contacted him, even though they KNEW what kind of a hell the loneliness he suffered for their sake! They never cared! All they saw was a child, a crybaby! _

No more!

_He would show them! He would take revenge for torturing him. They…no longer his friends, but his enemies. He would wait…wait for the perfect moment to strike when it would hurt most physically and mentally. He…would…kill…them…_

_The questions, who and what he was, faded from his mind as he began to conjure up a plan. _

_It would be difficult to strike them all off at once…_

_Tokomon. Tokomon would help. He had done nothing to hurt him in any way. A true friend. He would receive a great reward for his faithfulness._

_It was decided._

_Takeru would kill the Digidestined. One and all._

__

Yamato soon accustomed himself to living in Suna's place. It had been a few days since they'd arrived, and Taichi was feeling himself but still insisted on resting more. They had not been able to visit the digimon though, a great disappointment on the blonde's part.

The food was served two times a day, and was rather skimpy meals at that. But it was more than any of them had had in days, so the two heartily dug in.

They had agreed to stay until everyone was at full health, and then they would pack up and leave. Not that there was anything to pack up…

Yamato didn't know why he wanted to leave this place so badly. Something about it made his hair stay on end. Feeling always watched and hunted. It made him take second glances at the dark shadows in corners.

One day while Yamato was visiting Taichi, Suna decided to check up on them. It came as a surprise, because she had not shown herself since her introduction.

The two of them had been eating when she came in. And something about her presence made them lose their appetite fast. Their attention was captured by her enticing allure of beauty and mystery.

"Good morning, you two. How are you becoming acquainted with your surroundings?"

"Fine," Yamato said nonchalantly, trying to ease the sense of danger he kept feeling around her.

Taichi only nodded, swallowing the rest of his food. His eye that had been swollen shut by the dirt had long been cleaned out and was now in the process of healing itself. He was still sunburned in many places, and he couldn't get up and walk around just yet, his leg muscles were far too strained.

Suna inclined her head knowingly, "I came to tell you that the digimon have recovered and you can visit them now. However, you," she looked at Yamato, "your younger brother has not awakened yet and is still injured. I can't permit you to see him just yet."

"But he's my _brother_! I want to be there for him, make up for the times I missed all these years!" Yamato yelled out suddenly, his outburst startling them all, "For the last six years he's been neglected by the only person that he _thought_ he knew! Why can't I visit him?!"

Suna took this all patiently, and calmly, she did not seem angry in the least. "I wouldn't want to endanger you or your friend. Your brother has been put under a deep spell; even I, with all my magic, am having trouble healing him properly. If you say he has been neglected, then I would see why the barrier around his mind is all but impossible to penetrate. I apologize if I sound rude, but if you interfered now, he might sink more within himself, out of our reach."

"You're saying that he's…" Yamato trailed off, a far away look in his eyes.

Taichi watched this confrontation. It was all so familiar to him in such a way…if only he could grasp it…

The conversation, or rather, argument continued between the two of them. Taichi went into deep thought, cupping his chin. It was déjà vu…he had been in this conversation before…

And then it hit him in a cataclysmic flood.

"Crash-Zero."

Koromon yawned loudly, still physically exhausted, but mentally he was fresh as a daisy. He gave a toothy grin to the nearby Gatomon, who was presently giving herself a refreshing bath. His bright red eyes flashed to her, the silent message, _'I told you we'd make it._'

The feline scratched behind her ear and purred softly, nodding. She stretched, her tail going rigid as she suffered a yawn as well.

Sitting up straight, the two of them looked to the corner of the room where Tokomon sat glumly. He had definitely been hurt the most in their crazy journey from their former home in the now-burnt-up Northern Forest. His small onyx eyes were downcast with worry, and his two ears were sagged down at his sides, altogether giving him a wilted flower look.

"Are you okay, Tokomon?" Gatomon asked warily, edging closer tentatively.

The smaller slowly shook his head, not bothering to hold back the tears. "It hurts so much, Gatomon…"

"What hurts, Tokomon?" the feline digimon asked, gently rubbing against Tokomon.

"I…I don't know…the world seems so spinney…and the feelings Takeru is emitting are s-scaring me…I don't know what to do…or think…"

"Scaring you?"

Tokomon nodded, fearful, "Takeru…his thoughts are those of murderous ones…his intent is to kill…I can feel so much _pain_ and loneliness just flowing from him like the tears he used to shed…"

The digimon and their partners, if they became close enough, shared a special link with each other that allowed them to know exactly what the other was feeling or thinking with no words said. Gatomon had had this gift with Hikari and they had shared many personal conversations in there past adventures six years ago. However, the digimon were much more sensitive to this connection than the humans were, so often times it was a one-sided thing.

"It's just…I've felt his hurt for so long…so long…I can almost be in his place sometimes… He loved his mother so…and she took advantage of it…neglected and abandoned him when he needed her most…and he still loves her…" Tokomon sobbed the whole time, leaning into Gatomon for the friendly comfort that neither had had for a long time. "His mind has changed from his childhood…a dark shadow overhangs him…something that he thinks he can trust to always be there for him…to never, ever hurt him in the way his mother did… What…do I…do?" Tokomon quivered, unsure.

"Why, you be his friend," Koromon interrupted. Moving over with what strength he had, he smiled reassuringly while he talked. "You be his friend. Be there for him. Do what you can to make neither him feel that he is not inadequate in this world nor his own. Make him feel needed, and wanted. I believe that you're the only one who'd be able to do this, from what I gather from your words." Koromon nodded.

Tokomon stared at the other In-Training in utter adoration, forgetting that his mouth was hanging open. "But…?"

"Koromon is right," Gatomon added, "Now is not the time for you to be doubting yourself, Tokomon. If Takeru needs help, then by golly you're the best chance anyone has in getting him back into his old self. I should know what it feels like to welcome yourself to the darkness…all you ever want is a friend, but you're so avoidant that it gets in the way. Just be his friend."

Tokomon thought it over for a moment, and then gave a feeble grin, shedding his last few tears, "Yes, yes…you are both right… I'll do that…"

And then the door opened; Taichi and Yamato came in.

There was a moment of resolute silence as Taichi and Koromon stared at each other in dumbfounded shock. Then a huge grin broke across Taichi's face and Koromon's, and they both ran to each other, Koromon bouncing straight into Taichi's welcoming arms.

The brunette-haired youth held his mouth ajar in unspoken joy at their reunion. Though his legs wobbled beneath him, he paid it no heed. A knot formed in his throat as he hugged his digimon closer to his torso, keeping a sob well constricted in his neck.

"Oh, Koromon…" Taichi whispered to his friend, "You have no idea how great it is to see you again after all these years…"

Koromon nuzzled him, "I know, Taichi… I know."

Everyone else in the room watched the two of them, and they couldn't help but feel a little jealous at their happiness. Yamato kept his gaze firmly out in the hallway, folding his arms and trying to keep his infamous tough-guy-don't-touch-me look. He knew his brother was somewhere in this building…but _where_…? And what of Gabumon?

He glanced over at the cuddling Gatomon and Tokomon, and decided that he would go and say hello to them. As he approached, the feline noticed first.

"Yamato," she acknowledged.

"Gatomon," he replied, and added, "Tokomon…it's great to see that you're both alive and…" he paused, "alive and doing fairly well."

The cat digimon gave what could be taken as a sarcastic smirk. Her long, thin tail wagged slightly, despite her pinched face. Tokomon smiled truthfully. "Hiya Yamato, nice to see you too."

The three stared at each other for a few minutes, and then the blond decided to break the ice, "Have any of you seen Gabumon?"

Gatomon nodded swiftly, "Yeah…he was here earlier, but he left to take a walk around the place. Said he had something on his mind and he needed his space…I'd imagine he'd be coming back soon."

Yamato let a sigh of relief burst inwardly inside him. At least his friend was somewhere nearby, and that was good enough for him. He nodded his thanks and went back to his place by the door, and looked in Taichi's direction. The two of them were having a heated conversation about what had happened since the last time they'd seen each other. Shaking his head to get some of the hair out of his face, Yamato sighed and began to worry for his brother again. Thinking of this brought memories back of what Taichi had said out of the blue during his argument...

_"Crash-Zero," Taichi said, with enough clarity to silence whatever was going on._

_Yamato stared blankly at him, "What are you talking about?"_

_However, he didn't answer, much to his chagrin. Yamato folded his arms and glared, "What are you talking about Taichi?!"_

_The other shook his head and covered his face with his hands. Suna remained silent after this statement, in deep thought. Only Taichi could see that she nodded in a sudden understanding and left the room. _

_Yamato was glad that she left, and he began to yell at his friend. "Taichi, what the hell do you mean by, 'Crash-Zero'?! If you know something about my brother I want you to tell me!"_

_Taichi only shook his head pitifully, "I can't Yamato...I can't. Not yet."_

_Yamato leaned backwards, suppressing his urge to leap violently on the other and start to beat the information out of him. Doing so would do no good, as he had learned..._

_Gathering his patience, Yamato struggled to keep his voice as straight as possible. "Okay...tell me what you can."_

_Taichi pulled his head out of his hands and Yamato nearly gasped at what he saw. His friend's eyes were stained with turmoil and pain from the past. _

_"Shit, Taichi..." Yamato commented._

_The other teen let out a horrible laugh, rubbing his eyes. "I'm sorry...it's just. I can't tell you everything. You're my best friend, Yamato...but still...give me time. All I can say is that you have to be there for your brother through thick and thin. Show him you care..." and the unsaid words, 'show him that you love him.'_

_It all became clear for the blond and he slouched, "He's going through the same thing Hikari-chan did, isn't he?"_

_Taichi nodded, rubbing his temple. _

_"Then that means everything will be just fine," Yamato said reassuringly. "If she could make it that means Takeru will make it. I know my brother. He'll be fine."_

_Taichi shrugged, knowingly keeping his mouth shut. He picked up his chopsticks and began to pick at his food again. It was cheap noodles that were similar to earth's home-style ramen with vegetables.  It slowly sloshed this way and that. He only wished it were that easy…_

It was night now. Or at least they thought it was, judging by their internal clocks saying it was time to go to bed. Suna allowed them to bring the digimon to bed with them if they wished it so. In turn, Koromon went with Taichi and Gabumon with Yamato. Gatomon and Tokomon decided to stay in the room they were in, less they disturb the others.

The two could be found curled up next to each other in the bed in the corner of the room. Since Gatomon was the bigger of the two, and possessed a thicker coat than the other did, she provided the warmth, while Tokomon offered the comfort. Plus, the two didn't want to feel alone.

The smaller of the two was shuddering in his fitful slumber, as he was true to his word that through Takeru's link were travelling bloody images and evil intent. Of course he had been exposed to darkness before, but never had it emanated so _brightly_ from his fellow companion, so truly…horrible.

It was the same feeling that he had felt for a short period of time from Yamato, but that had never been so purely dark…just a lost soul… What Tokomon was feeling from Takeru was just…hatred, just that, pure and simple.

Gatomon sensed her friend's discomfort in her slumber, and just uttered a "settle down," and wagged her tail a bit.

Tokomon froze then, snapping from his nightmares of killing his friends. His whole body just sat there, rigid as a stone as his pearl black eyes were wide open in fear. Biting the bottom of his furry lip, he snuggled closer to Gatomon, mumbling…"Gatomon…I'm so scared…"

He turned around and was shocked to see her emerald eyes staring at him tiredly, but patiently. It was an awkward moment. Breathing was shallow.

Gatomon had no need to say anything, but she did anyway, "It's okay. I'm here…I'm right here…"

It was a rare occasion indeed when digimon were really sentimental, and they hardly ever showed pride so it wasn't difficult for them to cry in front of others. They felt emotions, don't get confused, but they more often listen to their instinct, and use their emotions for when it is strongly needed.

Tokomon allowed himself to be held tenderly by his friend, trembling. He relayed the nightmare he had and she listened thoroughly, making no comment on how he had imaged himself killing her as well. The more he replayed the dilemma, the more real it was becoming in his eyes, and the small In-Training was beginning to see in the mind's eye a valiant MagnaAngemon…standing over the dead carcasses of his comrades…

A large tremor shook through him, and Gatomon only gave a small squeeze of reassurance. Tokomon tried to calm down, if only a little, but in the pit of his center he still felt an icy cold fear binding him. The bloodbath pried his eye right back open, and then he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep that night. Looking up into Gatomon's eyes, she knew what he was feeling

"A walk?" she suggested.

Tokomon nodded listlessly, his heart pounding a drum in his ears. The two got up, Gatomon stretching to get her nerves awake. Tokomon took timid steps, but they made their way out into the hallway and began exploring the complex.

It was deadly quiet, and it could be heard. Tokomon stayed as close as he could to Gatomon as he could without causing any discomfort.

They took many turns, mostly rights. They soon found themselves to be hearing the soft sound of running water and decided to follow it. This, for the most part, was rather difficult, but with Gatomon's keen hearing they were soon standing in front of an open door, where they could spot Suna occupying herself inside.

The small digimon hesitated at the threshold, staring inward.

It was what could have been mistaken for a Japanese shrine; with the burning incense, Buddha statues, ancient sayings on the wall (however, these sayings were in Digital Runes, not kanji), and an assorted collection of katanas hanging on the wall. Suna was on the far end of the crowded room, bending over in a low bow with her palms pressed against each other. Gatomon could faintly hear her mumbling something, but couldn't make it out.

Something inside the feline tingled, and, surprised at the feeling happening against her will, she looked back and saw her tail ring glowing: reacting to the chant Suna was stating. Gatomon's ears flattened against her head suspiciously and she lowered herself to the ground, trying to get her agitated tail under control. Her claws dug into the wood beneath her as the statues in the room glowed as well, beginning to rise from their places on the ground.

Tokomon edged closer to his friend, worried, when Gatomon snapped: "Don't get close…I can barely keep my control now…"

The In-Training nodded. Her tail was jerking in awkward ways now, snapping this way and that at an alarming speed. In the room the statues were now spinning in a chaotic frenzy around Suna, illuminating bright neon green.

The Digital Runes on the walls seemed to react as well, giving off a beat that sounded like a deep drum, throbbing.

Each thump sent a large quake through the feline's body, startling Tokomon each time.

And then Suna was thrown backwards by some force, and everything stopped abruptly, the statues falling to the ground. Gatomon sagged downwards, her claws reclining. Tokomon stepped over to her and nudged her ribs gently with his nose.

"Gatomon…?" Tokomon questioned.

"I'm okay…" she replied, forcing her to get up, "Don't worry about it…"

Suna was brushing herself off, her back still turned to the digimon. Tokomon and Gatomon walked in and started towards her.

"I must admit, I did not think you would be able to handle yourself so well…" Suna said, turning around to reveal a half cracked face, blood running down her cheek…but it wasn't blood…it was…sand?

The other half of her face was filled with light green scales, a bright yellow eye shining. She was giving them a special smile, one of merit. Tokomon stood entranced, his eyes wide.

Suna knelt down, her long hair falling in cascades about her. She reached out and gently ran a finger along Gatomon's spine. The cat digimon froze at first contact, but generally grew into it…but still didn't like it.

"You are a digimon of great capabilities, Gatomon-child…your ability to deflect my Control is proof of that…though…" her eyes trailed down the path of her tail and spotted the ring, "I'm sure that your ring had much to do with it."

Gatomon suddenly snapped to her feet and backed away from her, glaring, "You won't take it. I've had it forever."

"I wouldn't dare," Suna said, and her gaze moved to Tokomon.

"You are special too."

"H-huh?" Tokomon stuttered, his eyes darting in different directions.

Suna's smile broadened kindly to the two of them, "You never thought it odd?"

"Never thought what odd?" Tokomon and Gatomon said simultaneously.

Suna rested her hands on her knees, her eyes going serious, "You never thought it odd that you were the only Tokomon? The only Nyaromon?"

The two froze, their eyes going wide. Of course they had noticed, had always felt it in their minds and bodies that they had never had a home to go to, never anyone similar to them. They exchanged questioning glances, receiving the answer that the other felt the same as they did.

"But…what does it mean?" Gatomon asked, still shaken. "Why are we different…?"

"I cannot say…you will find out in due time," Suna replied honestly. And in one elegant movement, she stood up to her full height, her tresses of clothing flowing about her form. The rest of the sand that made up her human face dripped away, revealing that of a dragon's muzzle. Her yellow eyes trailed around the room, as if taking it in for the first time. This went on for several minutes, the large, curious eyes examining the room, unaware that her formerly human body was losing its shape; horns emerged out of the back of her head, and lined down the middle of her back. Two great wings emerged then, and her arms and legs grew and shrank to be two lanky arms and thick hind legs.

Her eyes found the digimon, and they both jumped when they heard a voice in their head:

**_Good luck._**

With a mighty roar and beat of her wings, Suna vanished.

It was several hours before the two older boys and their digimon partners awoke from their slumber. Unknown to all of them, they had all had the same dream about Suna in her dragon form. The digimon were the first to wake, and they stayed in their respective rooms to wait for Taichi and Yamato to wake up. Tokomon and Gatomon had retreated to their room after their encounter with Suna.

In short, Suna's Desert Palace was deadly quiet.

Outside it was early dawn, though not a soul could tell that given that it was already sunny out. It was like the sun had never rested in the first place, and night had never taken place. The heat was not a scorching, but the temperature was gradually rising...it would only be a half hour or so until it would seem as if no time had passed since the sandstorm.

A strange thing of sorts was hovering just near the mountains, not daring to move forward. It was a strange shape indeed, like a plump, deformed, upside-down gun. On its very top the Digimon Kaiser stood, glaring down at the earth below.

Wind swished his cloak, and his tuft of indigo spiky hair hung over his eyes, disguising the menacing look he was devising. Lifting a gloved hand, he attached something to his ear and began to speak.

"A-19, are the cannon's ready for offensive positions?" he asked tersely.

Almost, Master...give her ten minutes and we'll blow this place to smitherines.

"I see," the Kaiser commented, and then pressed another button, apparently switching point B of the communication device. "A-5, how are things there?"

Fine, Master. Ready when you are, came the female response.

The Kaiser couldn't help but grin as he switched off the ear piece. He bit his bottom lip, suppressing the urge to roar in a burst of laughter. With all this equipment...he was _invincible_...nothing could stop him from destroying Suna once and for all..._nothing_.

The static voice interrupted train of thoughts, Cannon's ready and armed. Just say the word.

"Good," the Kaiser straightened his shades, he had an unconscious feeling to look good while blowing things up.

He cast one more foreboding glance at the area, and shouted.

"SUNA! I'M GIVING YOU ONE LAST CHANCE! JOIN WITH ME AND I'LL SPARE YOU!"

He smiled maniacally as silence answered him, as he had dearly wanted. 'I thought so,' he noted to himself as he busied himself with turning his side of the communications on. And then a roar shook the ship, knocking Ken from his feet.

"What the-?!" he cursed, and stood up straight, darting his eyes around the desert, trying to find the source. His sunglasses thrown askew, his grape purple eyes were frantic.

Master! A-19's voice screeched in his ear, A dragon...right below us!

"Then DESTROY it!" the Emperor yelled, fumbling for something at his belt. Finding it, he tugged it off and glared at it.

A black digivice...it was different than the ones the original Digidestined. It had grip and looked slightly more updated. A red dot was beating fast in the middle of the screen. He gritted his teeth and cursed yet again, squeezing it. Standing up fast, he touched his ear piece.

"Fire! Fire no-" he was cut short as another tremor shook the device from his hand and sent it flying all those hundreds of feet to the ground...and Suna, the dragon, came into his view. Just the mere sight of her killed his breath, her wings flapping...sand pouring from her mouth and surrounding her in a barrier-like manner...

His brain suddenly felt like it was being squished by a child's hand, and he let out a loud scream and fell to his knees, grabbing his head. Those eyes...piercing him...tearing...him...apart...!

It felt like his thoughts were being unfolded, examined, and then being tossed away. They were replaced by bloody images...an accident...his brot-

"FIRE!" Ken screamed with the last he could muster. A split second later he felt the hold on his brain disappear. He looked up and saw that one of the cannons had shot clear through the body of the dragon. Crimson liquid splashed onto his face...and he...grinned.

Suna fell from the sky, and when she collided into the sand, a great cloud of dust covered them all.

The Kaiser's base let out an all out attack then, all cannons firing in one mighty storm that lit the world for miles.

Ken kept his arm in front of his nose as the base was now turning around and heading towards the ocean. The land he had just attacked flattened the mountains that had been around it, eradicated from existence like they had never been there. Whatever Suna had sought to hide in her underground hideout was most likely dead now. The Kaiser let his grin spread across his face. It felt good to have power. Lots of power. Real good.

The doubts Suna had put into Ken's mind were obliterated now. Hands on his hips he laughed triumphantly to the world.

The moment Ken unleashed a headlong attack on the desert of File Island, an earthquake shook both the Digital World and Earth. A violent quake, there were more than a hundred casualties. Weather patterns were altered drastically: a place that was originally snowing was now blistering hot, and vice versa. For the Digital World's inhabitants they were all accustomed to this strange pattern. On earth, it gave the common populace a scare every soul sat on the edge of their seat, awaiting for this dilemma to disappear and let them carry on.

Rumors spread. The end of the world was nigh. People with any sort of power tried to calm them, but to no avail. Riots broke out, and people insane with terror hurt, even killed those who tried to get in their way.

It was one of the same happenings of six years ago. The same awesome weather changes and the panic incurred by all. Only, on a much greater scale. Experts were puzzled, some even quit their jobs to get away from the ambiguity.

It had been ten days since the last earthquake that shook the entire planet. Ten days since ten children in the vicinity of Odaiba, Japan had disappeared.

Through all this, Ryu Ishida, the father of Yamato and Takeru, stayed in the television station, trying to find out what was going on.

It was in these days that age really caught up with him. Dark shadows under his eyes marked that he had little or no sleep for the past three days. The week before when he had come to find his children missing, he had just assumed they were out. It was two days before missing reports of all of Yamato's friends had showed up on television that had convinced him that they were back in the Digital World for one reason or another.

First the disappearances. Then the next earthquake. Satellites were in frenzy and a strange layer of Electro-magnetic substance surrounded the earth like a cocoon, disrupting all flows of electricity.

Ryu knew that the Digital World was responsible for all of this, but there was something missing. Something…like a memory on the brink of remembrance before vanishing into the depths on obscurity.

There was something else.

But…what?

Takeru.

His very spirit waned, and he floated once again. His face was innocent and scared, his eyes open and staring fearfully at the destruction happening before his eyes.

An island.

An island, being completely blown up.

His body trembled. The swirling mark on his heart twanged uncomfortably and he grabbed at it, scraping his skin with his bitten nails. Why did seeing something like that destroyed hurt him? And why, at the same time…did he enjoy it?

An empty classroom.

He was in his school uniform now, and from it's design it was the one he had had the last year before he'd moved to the cold region in Hokkaido…Kushiro.

His hands were folded in front of his face, and he stared blankly in front of him. This was the last day he would see this room, and his friends. If only for a while. When he was eight his mother had said they'd only be in Kushiro for a number of months before she found a better job back in Odaiba. This, of course, had never ended up happening, and it didn't seem to the boy that she had even tried to find a better job.

The door opened. He snapped out of his reverie and looked at the newcomer, only to see it was Hikari and Taichi.

He gave them a little smile, unbeknownst to him it made him seem several years older. Hikari ran to him, holding back her sniffles and telling him her good-byes. She'd given him a bone-crushing hug. Taichi had patted him on the head and told him to be a strong boy until they saw him next time.

"Takeru-kun…" the young girl wiped her eyes, biting her bottom lip, "I'll call as often as I can. I will!"

The boy nodded slowly, still unable to make himself speak. His slightly chubby fingers clutched at the other hand tightly, as if in fear for their own life. His dark blue eyes were clouded over, wanting, wanting to not move away. To move away from the only friends he'd ever had.

A hand. On his shoulder.

The boy looked up in to Hikari's concerned eyes. His hands lowered to reveal his mouth, which had been, the entire time, shaking. She gave him a soft, confident smile.

"We'll still be friends."

Takeru nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. He'd cry later, he wouldn't cry in front of her. "I-I promise not to make any friends while I'm gone…I promise."

Hikari nodded with a small pain. Who knew that he would be gone for six years? None of them even suspected. The only one who had had an even smallest inkling was Yamato, and they had already bid their farewells.

Someone walked into the room. It turned out to be Natsuko. She was dressed formally, business like. She ushered Takeru over (who came with much reluctance), and gave the two others a sharp good-bye before hurrying them out.

The classroom disappeared, and Takeru was by himself once again. The mark throbbing.

_Betrayal. They never cared. Never. All they cared about was themselves, they didn't even give a second thought to your feelings. Can you really call them your friends?_

The boy held in his shock. The mark…the swirling mark on his heart. It was _talking_ to him.

_Can you, in all honesty, give them the benefit of the doubt? And what about your brother? I don't think he cared too much about you, even though you heard from him yourself that mother was always thinking of herself? I don't think mother was the only bad person._

The mark seemed to vibrate under his sensitive fingertips, and a black shadow flowed out of it like water. The mist compounded together, and soon, a shadowy image of Takeru was standing before him, smiling in a comforting way.

"Y-you…" Takeru mumbled, shaking, "Wh-What is this…?"

_You. I am you, the side that you only reveal to yourself. I am your honesty. You can trust me, Takeru. You always have. You always will._

The shadow approached him in a caring manner. Takeru backed away, only to be stopped by the shadow's chilling embrace.

_I love you, Takeru. I will always be there and take care of you. Together we will destroy those who have hurt us. Don't you wish that, to hurt those tenfold the way they hurt us?_

"I…I don't know…" Takeru whispered. "B-But why kill them…? Why…? What's the p-point?"

_They deserve it, love. You want to redeem what has happened to you then you will listen to me. They hurt us, and they knew what they were doing. Why else would they suddenly lose all contact with us? Tell me._

"I don't know." The boy whimpered as the shadow drew closer, pressing their bare bodies together. "S…Stop it…"

_Indeed. I will stop. _

The shadow figure pulled away, but kept his hands on Takeru's shaking shoulders, all the while giving that confident smile.

The mark on Takeru's heart was freezing, biting down to the innermost layer of himself. The boy's blue eyes were blatantly obviously held fear.

_You will feel better basking in their blood, love. You will adore the feeling of their life dripping down your fingers, revel in the fact that you have paid your price. Grasp their hearts in your hand…squeeze it… You will enjoy it._

Takeru hated himself for admiring this shadow, and truly wondering what it would be like to rip the heart out of someone's chest. His eyes were wide and his hand was flexing, pretending there really was a heart there.

_You see? You already are enjoying it._

"I…" Takeru lowered his hand in shame. "This…isn't right."

_But you want it. And you have been deprived for so long. Be selfish. Take what you want._

"But…it's not right…I have no right…"

_You have every right._

An image of his mother in her usual business dress. She gave him one of those fake smiles of hers. Takeru's mouth hung open.

"_Mother_."

Her arms were outstretched, awaiting him to run to her arms. He found himself rooted to the spot. His hands hung limply at his side as the shadow gave him a small push forward.

_Go to her._

It pressed an object in his hand. A heavy object.

His gaze returned to his mother, who was still smiling. Her mouth curved, forming a word. Takeru's hand squeezed the object in his hand, his teeth gritting. He had never felt such a rage in himself before.

His eyes burning. Aflame…she had _hurt him so…_!

"_Takeru_."

"I'LL KILL YOU!" Takeru screamed, charging forward and pressing the button on the object, ejecting an eight-inch polished blade. He ran faster than he had ever run before, and he collided with the human he despised, depressing the blade straight into her neck. Blood splashed onto his face.

His mother's body collapsed onto him, her warm life liquid running down the side of his chest.

The blade dropped to the ground and ceased to be. The boy lifted up his hand and looked at it, stained with wet blood.

It fascinated him, his eyes twisting in an unseen joy as a mutated smile stretched across his face.

**YES.**

Iori struggled through the mountains, breathing heavily as he continued his ascent, having no idea why he was doing this. It was cloudy out when the first tremor shook the ground, and it soon began to rain, dampening his already low spirits.

He coughed lightly. He'd been travelling around for seven days, living only on the edible shrubs and berries he could find. The cold nights were hard on his eleven-year-old body, and still he drove on, something drawing him. It was a strange feeling.

His raw hands scraped against a sharp rock and he winced pitifully, unused to the jab of pain. Sure he had plenty of head bopping in kendo lessons with his grandfather, but nothing so painful as what he was going through.

The little boy faced things a little better than most his age would, the survival exercises his grandfather had taught him finally coming in handy. His sweaty hair fell across his eyes and he bitterly whisked it away, looking upwards to the rain, his mouth hanging slack out of pure exhaustion. His olive green eyes flashed and he took in a breath, pulling himself over the last boulder to find himself on top of the mountain.

The sight took his breath away. Literally.

He collapsed to the ground, barely able to believe what he was seeing in the far distance.

"No…no _way_."

And yet it was.

He got on top of the mountain just as Ken released his attack on File Island, and watched the island's demise.

It was nothing like a mushroom cloud, more like several large scale explosions, and then the bubble of a cloud seemed to pop, sending shockwaves in all directions. Iori found himself watching in utter horror as the island in the distance collapsed upon itself. He then saw the thick dirt shockwave getting closer and closer, and terror took his small body as he flung himself behind the boulder yet again, covering his head with his thin and battered arms.

A large sucking sound overtook him, popping his ears instantly as he kept a scream of pain in. He used his legs to push himself against the boulder, now covering his ears. Small pebbles beside him erupted off the ground and flew in the direction the shockwave was heading.

And then it stopped. All that was left was dead silence, and the slowly dripping rain.

Iori felt his hands sag down, and dust fell in rivers down his face. Shaking his head, a large cloud emerged around him. He suppressed the sudden urge to laugh and he slowly climbed back up the boulder, peeking his head over the top.

The ocean was now out of sight in the thickness of the dust. Squinting, he was even unable to see the source of the explosion. Assuming that it was safe to climb back over, he kept low to the ground. The feeling that he was being drawn somewhere still had not disappeared, and so, he crawled the direction he felt was appropriate.

The rain slowly picked up as he continued on, making the dry dust sticky and muddy, making him feel filthier than he already felt. He crawled on his hands and knees, which hurt his hands more than anything did. The feeling of being led was so strong he felt that he could have closed his eyes and just let his feelings take him where they would. But, for his peace of mind, he kept his eyes open.

His left hand suddenly came down upon a thorn that dug right into the skin and stayed there. Iori let out a scream, his other hand grasping his wrist.

Getting control over himself, he crawled slowly over to a nook of rocks to stay out of sight. Controlling himself the best he could, he delved to pull the thorn out with the nails that he didn't have due to them being pulled while climbing.

He gritted his teeth, huddling close to himself. His left hand beat frantically, the tender skin throbbing.

It was then that he heard voices.

"…way…heard it…"

Someone must have heard his scream, he presumed, and curled up tighter. He didn't want them to find him, what if they were enemies?

_But you need help…_ his conscience reminded him, _even you can't deny that._

"I know…" Iori muttered to himself.

"Over here!"

It was a feminine voice, and it was getting closer. The boy looked out and saw a pink bird with a manacle on it's left talon.

He rubbed his eyes. The bird didn't go away.

A woman with short red hair followed the talking bird, a small gadget in her hand. Iori retreated farther into the nook, very sure that he didn't want to be found by a _talking bird_.

Too late.

The bird's big, blue eyes were staring at him curiously from the outside, extending her wing in. "Come on," it reassured, "we won't hurt you."

"G-GO AWAY!" Iori cried, trying to hide his fearful eyes, "I-I DON'T NEED HELP!"

"Sure you do," the bird said reassuringly, grinning in its own way, "Just look at yourself."

"Let me try, Biyomon," another voice (he presumed it was the young woman).

The bird nodded, and stepped away. The redhead knelt down then, and couldn't hide her shock when she saw that Iori was a human. A child, no less.

"Oh, geez," she whispered, "Kid, are you okay?"

"Just fine. Go away," Iori snapped with a little less intensity than he would have preferred.

"Don't worry," she said, "We just want to help. I take it you've never seen a digimon before?"

Iori couldn't help but shake his head, retreating farther in as she tried to reach out to him.

The lady gave him a confident smile, "Okay then. Looks like you hurt your hand there," she motioned to the blood dripping down his wrist, "Let's clean it up…come on…we won't hurt you."

Iori eyed her suspiciously, hiding his bleeding hand under his shirt, "That _bird_…"

"Biyomon? She's a digimon," the young woman said informatively, "She's a good digimon."

"Darn right I am!" the bird digimon yelled cheerfully from behind the redhead.

She chuckled and held her hand out, "Really, kid. We promise not to hurt you. We're looking for something ourselves and wouldn't mind if you joined us. My name is Sora."

"Sora…?" Iori began, a little confused, "That's all?"

She grinned, "Nah. It's Takenouchi Sora to be accurate. But just call me Sora. What's your name?"

"I-Iori…Hida Iori."

"Nice name, now…come on, let's clean your hand up and be on our way?"

The boy nodded slowly in spite of himself, she seemed trusting enough. Giving her his other hand, he held back a wince as she pulled him out.

The rain against his skin felt extremely nice, especially after being in that stuffy nook for so long. He shook his head to clear his senses and muttered an apology to Biyomon, who took it well.

Sora gingerly took his other hand and examined the wound. She was very tender in her touch, realizing by the red how raw they really were. She found the thorn.

"Now, bite your tongue down. Hard. Ready?"

Iori did as he was told and nodded quickly, preparing himself for a large amount of pain.

She pulled it our smoothly, and it did hurt, but not as much as it would have if he had tried to remove it. Smiling she tossed it away and used her shirt to gently wipe off the blood and dirt.

"There," she patted his head, "that should do for now. According to this," she pulled off a strange gadget on her belt loop and showed it to him. The small screen had two lights on it, one red and one blue. Pointing to the blue one, she explained, "That's us," and then to the red one, "There's where we're headed."

Iori took a look in the direction that they were going to go, and did what would have been a spectacular double take if he had been a cartoon.

It was the same direction he'd been headed. The same destination.

"What's there?" he asked quickly, "What is _there_?!"

"Whoa, geez, I don't know for sure, Iori-chan," Sora said, waving her hands in front of her face. "Why do you want to know, kiddo?"

"B-Because…" he began, then stopped, looking down. How could he explain? She'd think he was insane, or in the very least imagining things. It was so impossible he didn't want her to abandon him, not after he'd been travelling alone for seven days.

She rested her hands on his shoulders, giving him a reassuring shake, "Hey, just tell me. The Digital World can do amazing things to a person. I should know."

Digital World? Iori discarded the matter and told her, "It's just…where you're going. For some reason…ever since I first got here I've been _drawn_ by something or other to that same place. It's the reason I'm up here."

She nodded understandingly, and then put the device on her belt loop again, "Hey, I know the feeling. This may sound like a silly question, but do you have one of these? Or seen one?"

Sora motioned to the device and he shook his head to both questions. Sighing in content, she gave a tired grin.

"Okay. I was just wondering."

"What is it?" Iori said.

"A digivice!" Biyomon chirped, jumping. "It makes me digivolve! Or…it used to."

Sora repressed back a chuckle at the boy's baffled look, and his blank stare at her partner.

"Heh, well, Iori-chan, if you're here…you'll find out, right? But to save you the trouble…" she put her hand on his back and began walking in the direction they were supposed to go, "I'll explain it all on the way."

**Digimon Odyssey**

**Episode Two (part two): The Prism's Roundabout**

Iori kept his speculations to himself the way to wherever they were going. It was all too unreal to take in right away…did she really expect him to believe all that?

But _Biyomon_…

She should be proof that all this is not fantasy, but truly real. But the whole process of digivolution and alternate dimensions was making his head spinny.

"How's your hand?" Sora asked suddenly; concerned by his silence.

He looked at her, startled. He then realized what she was asking and flustered, "I-It's okay. It doesn't hurt anymore."

"Huh, that's good. I guess it's all a little…out of this world, eh? Literally," she smiled.

"Yeah…_really_ out there…" Iori mumbled.

"Hey!" Biyomon cried, offended, "I'm still made of flesh and blood!"

Sora chuckled lightly and picked her friend up, poking her stomach, "Of course you are, Bee! Never said you weren't!"

"Bee…?" Iori asked, puzzled. Biyomon certainly didn't _look_ like a bee. He suddenly hoped that she didn't have a stinger. It made an odd picture in his mind. A small smile cracked on his face.

"Yeah! It's her nickname, just short for her real one-hey! Are you laughing at it?" Sora commented.

"N-no," Iori grinned, "It's just…I thought you meant she was _like_ a bee and I got the picture that she…" he chuckled again.

Sora thought about it for a moment and then laughed herself, poking Biyomon's stomach once again (whom was still trying to get what they were laughing about, as she had never seen a bee herself).

They walked on for another twenty minutes or so before they could make out a strange shape in the distance, through the dust and rain. After looking at her digivice again, Sora nodded and said that was the place. Whatever humor had descended on them flew away on swift wings, and a serious feeling grouped them together.

The rain lightened a little, but the clouds above did not break to let the sun through. It seemed to get more humid though, and the three of them all felt a little heavier, and it was harder to breathe.

The building in the distance was really run down due to time, and half of it looked to be missing (this part looked fairly new).

Sora's digivice began to beep now, and she looked at it worriedly. There were now three dots as opposed to the two previous. The new dot was purple, and she brightened.

"I don't believe it. Koushiro!"

Iori glanced at her, "Who?"

"A computer-whiz. You guys would get along well."

"Oh."

Biyomon and Sora engaged in a heated conversation then, both of them wondering idly how Koushiro looked after a week in the Digital World. They suppressed their giggles, and then Sora said something that made them both go dead quiet. Iori wanted to question their sudden silence, as they had been so energetic before…but he decided against it. It wasn't his business anyway.

As they neared the ruin, the fog surrounding it seemed to clear…if only a little. After they got a certain amount closer to the building, the air got clearer. It was free of the dust.

The first step they climbed, from the sound it _was_ an old building. The pebbles made a satisfying click in Iori's ears, and even the hike left him breathless, he still enjoyed it for some reason or another. Somehow…something about this building just made anyone who was even in the darkest of moods to come out of it. There was something in it…and the feeling that Iori felt he had intensified tenfold. He sped up his pace, just a little.

"Hold on, kid. I'm tired," Sora complained in a joking way, "I mean…geez. You kiddies sure have got a lot of energy, even after travelling on scrap food for a _week_."

"I'm not a 'kiddie'," snapped Iori, in a more menacing tone than he meant, "My grandfather taught me many things."

"Like what?" Biyomon asked, bounding up to his side, "You look like one who practices…what was the word? Kara…Kara-something?"

"Karate," Sora put in her two pennies in the conversation and resumed walking.

"Yeah, that's it. Karate. Do you…practice Karate?"

Iori didn't know why, but he found himself grinning, "No. But in my Kendo teachings we learn body motions that are like the poses of Karate."

"So, um…" Biyomon pondered for a moment, looking dauntingly at the seemingly endless steps, "How long have you been…doing this…Kendo?"

"Since I was very young. About three, I would think."

Sora checked her digivice again, (which was now beeping maniacally), and she grinned to the two of them. Seeing their puzzled looks, she motioned behind the group and they saw Koushiro (with a passed out Motimon on his shoulder) just beginning to climb the treacherous flight of stairs.

And he looked absolutely horrible.

It seemed a week in the Digital World had really taken its toll on him and his digimon partner. His reddish-brown hair was a disheveled hurricane of knots, dirt and scratches caked half of his face. Koushiro's clothes seemed to be barely hanging on him.

"Oh, God," Sora cursed under her breath, and she bounded down the steps to aid her friend.

"Koushiro! Koushiro, are you all right?" she gasped between breaths, barely able to stop her momentum without toppling on top of the poor young man. She grasped hold of his elbow and he shied away from her, his eyes large and terrified.

Iori didn't move from his spot, feeling torn in half by the growing need to keep going up to the building and see what was awaiting inside that called to him. The other half wanted to go down there and help Sora, who had helped him. His hands clenched at his side and the ache of the raw skin didn't get through to him, he was so confused. A gentle wind caressed his face as he watched Koushiro fall on his rump, the small pink digimon partner falling off his shoulder and hitting the ground with a loud 'thwack'.

_Hida…Iori…_

A voice beckoned him. He snapped around in disarray, sweat dripping down his face. The steps seemed to stretch and stretch…until the entrance was but a speck in the far, far distance. His heart pounded in his ears, and he was unaware that he was trembling, a shivering wreck.

His feet moved of their own accord, and once he was aware of it he made no effort to stop it. It was far too late to try and resist the _calling_ now… It felt like someone was taking him by the wrist and literally tugging him along, and, ironically, his arms were outstretched like a sleepwalker.

Something, someone was up there. He had to know. Iori was dashing before he knew it, wind whipping by his face. He was dimly aware of the people behind him calling for him, they were weaker than this other up here.

_IoriIoriIoriIoriIoriIoriIoriIoriIoriIoriIoriIori_

His name repeated. Thousands of times, over and over. His arms pumped at his sides.

He made it. He was there.

IORI

He ran in the direction that he felt was right, for the cavern split into two hallways. Adrenaline was peaked, he was running faster than he had ever run before, even in his training sessions with grandfather had he ever felt so elated. The nature of his surroundings was of no consequence to him. THERE!

A secluded room in a tight crook in the wall; he barely squeezed through without minor pains.

There was…

…Nothing.

He resisted the urge to break down and sob then. He scanned through the room. It was bare.

Noise behind him. He ignored it and collapsed to the ground.

What had he been doing in this screwed up world? Trusting a feeling that he had absolutely no idea where it came from. What irony. His grandpa would laugh at the stupidity of his grandson.

But he had been…so…sure…

Biyomon was calling out his name, he could now acknowledge it. He gave a last despondent look around the room. He was about to leave.

_Iori…_

The twinge. Iori stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide. His heart was roaring in his ears again. Suspecting (or maybe hoping?) that this was all just a silly prank to play the fool, he turned around…slowly.

It was still the empty room, same as before. The boy let out a haughty laugh.

"QUIET!" he screamed then. Trusting his instincts, he could swear that he felt the one 'talking' to him hesitate.

_My apologies…_

Iori was the one to blubber now, his hands fumbling with each other.

_But I truly thought you'd be able to see me in _this _form._

"What do you mean? What are you talking about?" Iori pleaded, his sweaty hands slipping and falling to his sides.

A shining globe appeared before him then, illuminating everything. The boy squinted his eyes shut and covered his face. Suddenly, his smart hand felt warm, and it smarted. He let out a small yelp.

The light evaporated, and Iori's hand still burned. He looked at it. There was a red line straight down the middle.

_Now. Follow my instructions _exactly, _and all will go well. _

"O…kay…"

_First; if you look in front of you, you will see an egg, and a device. Both of these will prove vital to your trails later on._

Iori tore his eyes from the cut on his hand and indeed looked upward. There, where there was previously nothing, lay a rather _strange_ egg with an odd mark on it, along with a small gadget not unlike Sora's digivice. In fact, the only thing different about it was that there was yellow material on the side and the shape was different. Entranced, he reached forward and picked it up. It beeped as it gained life in his hands, a detailed map of the area on the small screen with three dots, just like on Sora's digivice.

_This is a digivice. With it you will be able to make your partner _digivolve. _You must not lose this, Iori._

The boy nodded.

_Now, the egg. I want you to pick it up._

"That's it?"

_Yes. Everything will take care of itself from there._

"Right…" Iori was still in doubt, but whoever was talking to him had proved to be trustworthy thus far. Hooking the digivice to his hip, he crawled a little closer to the egg. Tentatively, his sore fingers enclosed the egg and rested there for a moment, reveling in the simple fact that they fitted so perfectly on the rises and falls on the shell. He gritted his teeth, expecting tension. And pulled.

The egg came up without any struggle.

_It is done_.

Iori didn't know what was going on. He stumbled backward, suppressing a yelp when the sensitive cut hit the ground roughly. The egg was no longer in his hands, but hovering in front of him.

Ironically, a loud yawn interrupted the strange moment, and Iori was knocked out of his dumbfounded look.

The boy's mouth dropped. If that were possible.

In place of where the egg had been, an armadillo-like creature took it's place, tiredly rubbing it's eyes with it's pudgy claws.

"Aw, I was havin' sucha good dream too…"

Iori screamed.

**Author's Notes:** _Geez this episode was hard to write! It's a little shorter than Episode One…but hey, I had to save some action for Episode Three! Expect the first digimon duel in the next episode, and the introduction of the other characters that I've (cough) failed to…incorporate…(coughs again). You'll soon see the reason for Takeru's killing attitude, and if you have any complaints, suggestions on improving, or compliments (grins shyly) feel free to review, email, or AIM me, I'm pretty much always available._

_Also, for the record, the updating schedule._

_Expect Digimon Odyssey to be updated twice a month, on the second Sunday of the month and the last Sunday of the month. This gives me two weeks to complete an episode, which is ample time for me! Take care everyone._


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